


A Life Less Miraculous

by MellyMiraculous (randomelity)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, LadyNoir - Freeform, Reverse Crush AU, bakers' son adrien, eventual shippage, life swap au, model marinette, spoilers: season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6403303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomelity/pseuds/MellyMiraculous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette feels invisible, despite the fact that her face is all over Paris. Adrien is a kind-hearted boy yearning for adventure. When this young model and baker's son are singled out for the responsibility of a lifetime – protecting their city from evil – will they be able to rise to the challenge? And will things change for the better, or will being superheroes only make things worse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book Covers

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my Life Swap AU (bits of which can be found on my Tumblr), wherein Marinette is the model and daughter of a fashion designer and Adrien is the bakers' kid. I wanted to explore how things would be both different and the same, swapping their lives while mostly retaining their personalities. 
> 
> Definite spoilers for the Origins episodes in the opening chapters. In fact, it's probably safe to expect spoilers for all episodes.
> 
> Be sure to let me know what you think! Kudos are sweet, but comments are love!

Marinette tugged her bag higher up onto her shoulder as Nathalie escorted her through the front door of the mansion. Letting out a heavy sigh, the girl tucked her hair behind one ear, only to freeze at the voice which greeted her.

“Honestly, Marinette.” Sabine Cheng may have been small in stature, but her presence within any given space demanded respect – and she got it. At the moment, she was gazing sternly down upon her only child from the landing. “Whatever is your obsession with this collège?”

The girl shot a betrayed look over her shoulder at Nathalie, before stepping closer to her mother. “Please, Maman, I just want to go to school like everyone else!” Marinette pleaded. “Chloé goes there. If it's safe enough for the mayor's daughter-”

“You,” Sabine cut in sharply, “are not the mayor's daughter. You are mine, and you will do as I tell you.”

“But, Maman-”

“Do you or don't you understand?” The woman pierced her daughter with a severe look.

Marinette visibly deflated. “Yes, Maman. I understand. It won't happen again.” Shoulders drooping, she started up the stairs to go to her room.

“Marinette,” her mother addressed her, causing the girl to turn towards her, the faintest spark of hope kindling deep inside her. “Posture.”

Turning away quickly so the woman wouldn't see the mutinous look which darkened her features, Marinette squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. She continued up the stairs with noticeably louder footballs, her otherwise silent protest somewhat ruined when she tripped on the last step. Her mother let out a long-suffering sigh and Marinette felt her face burn with shame.

Upon reaching her room, the teen closed the door with ill-grace and locked it behind her. Tossing her bag carelessly to the side, Marinette flopped down onto her bed, loose hair fanning out around her head. She proceeded to pound against the mattress with one fist, a mumbled litany of _“stupid, stupid, stupid,”_ leaving her lips.

She was left to her peace for only a few minutes before Nathalie was knocking at her door, reminding her that it was time to start her lessons. Marinette righted herself furiously, glaring at the door. She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream and shout about how utterly unfair it was. Instead, her shoulders sank once again and she let out a hopeless sigh.

“I'll be down in a minute!” she called back. Rising to her feet, the girl stopped in front of her vanity mirror, combing her fingers through her black locks of hair. At least her mother seemed to prize that. Not for the first time, Marinette wished she could be someone else. Anyone else.

0o0

Adrien hummed contentedly to himself as he waited at the crosswalk. He held a box of his mother's macarons in one hand, his school bag slung over the opposite shoulder. The boy bounced slightly where he stood, filled with energy. It was the start of a new school year and he was excited to see his friends again.

A car horn blared, and Adrien looked up to see an old man struggling to hurry across the street. Without a second thought, the boy darted forward to offer a hand. His toe caught on the curb on the way back and he fumbled the box, barely managing to avoid dropping it. Macarons safely in hand, once more, he turned wide green eyes to the elderly stranger.

“Are you all right?” Adrien asked, casting an inquiring look over the man and his cane.

“Just fine, young man, thanks to you,” said the gentleman.

The youth raised his free hand to scratch the back of his blond head. “It was nothing,” he said with a smile, “don't mention it.”

“Still, I thank you for your kindness,” insisted the stranger. He motioned to the box. “Is that okay?”

“What these?” Adrien asked with a small laugh. He opened the box to reveal the neatly lined cookies. “They're deliciously indestructible. Have one.”

“Well, if you insist.” He accepted a macaron and took a bite, nodding approval at the taste.

The teen's smile broadened, only to vanish when he heard the bell at his school begin to chime. “Got to run! Have a nice day!” He darted off with a final grin and a wave.

Adrien didn't see the old man straighten from his hunch with a smirk or take another bite of the cookie as he casually slung his cane over one shoulder. In fact, it was unlikely the boy would put any further thought to the encounter. That was just how Old Master Fu preferred it.

0o0

“Why is Chloé dictating seating arrangements, again?” Adrien asked Nino quietly as he took his seat. He nodded towards where Sabrina, Chloé's usual seatmate, was sitting next to the new girl, who looked none too pleased by the arrangement.

“Some other new girl is supposed to be coming today and Chloé wants to sit with her,” Nino responded.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not just _some girl_ ,” Chloé declared pompously from her seat behind Adrien. She was leaning on her desk as she addressed the two ignorant boys. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng is only _the_ most promising young fashion model in all of Paris. Furthermore, she and I are just like sisters. Sabrina knows.”

“Oh, you are absolutely right, Chloé!” Sabrina simpered from her place opposite the boys. “Marinette is so pretty, too. She's almost perfect. B-but not more perfect than you, of course, Chloé.”

The blonde impatiently waved off her friend's rambling, fixing the two boys with a condescending smirk. “In any case, Marinette is to be joining our class today. As her most bosom friend, it's only right that I reserve her a seat, is it not?”

“If you say so, Chloé,” Adrien replied, ducking his head to hide his own amused smirk. He could feel Chloé's frown, but chose to ignore it. He was in too good a mood for it to be ruined by the girl's airs or the arrival of this supposed fashion model.

In fact, the boy hardly noticed that Chloé's 'bosom friend' didn't show up that day. There were far more interesting things to hold his attention.

0o0

“Are you serious, Master?” the kwami asked in surprise, looking over the old man's shoulder as they watched the goings-on in the park. “Her? Her face is all over this city. Is that wise?”

“People are very adept on not seeing what is before them,” Master Fu replied.

“All right, but she hesitated. She almost didn't stop to help you, at all,” Wayzz protested. “Ladybug should act without hesitation. This girl... do you really think she can be trusted to put others before herself?”

The girl in question was turning to look back over her shoulder, her each move being coached to her by a man wielding a camera. “ _Now give-a me a big smile,”_ they could hear him saying, _“Now, a little more shy. A handsome boy you like is-a telling you you're pretty. Perfecto! Right there.”_

“Judging a book by its cover, Wayzz?” the old master admonished fondly. “You know better than that. Heroes are not the only ones who wear masks, my friend. She is the one. I am certain of it. Hidden behind that pretty face is Ladybug's heart, her courage, her selflessness. You will see.”

Wayzz questioned the Guardian no further. After all, the man was seldom wrong about these things.

In the park, Marinette Dupain-Cheng continued to fake a smile for the camera.

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done 21 Feb 2018


	2. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A supervillain has made its appearance and Adrien takes to the news with enthusiasm. Marinette? Not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still sticking a bit close to Origins in this chapter, but it felt important to do so in order to establish this particular AU. I promise once we really get into the story, that we'll veer away from a simple retelling, so bear with me! And be sure to let me know what you think! Comments give me life and motivation. :D

“Are you seeing this?” Adrien exclaimed. The pitchiness which touched his tone wasn't fear or alarm, or anything else that would be normal in the present situation.

“KIIIIIM!” roared the stony behemoth upon the monitor showing the security feed from the front of the school.

“This is so cool!”

Nino gave his best friend a long, measured look, wondering not for the first time whether the blond needed something more to divert his time than helping in the family bakery on the weekends. And Adrien wasn't the only one abnormally excited about what was happening. The new girl – Alya, her name was – was quickly swiping at her phone, murmuring aloud to herself, “GPS, check! Battery, check! And I am no longer here!”

“Where are you going?” Rose called worriedly after her as she dashed towards the library door.

“Where there are supervillains, there are superheroes!” Alya called back over her shoulder.

Was everyone insane?

“Superheroes, Nino!” Adrien slapped his shoulder, grinning broadly. “Paris is gonna have superheroes!”

Oh, yeah. His friend definitely needed some more extracurricular activities.

Once the danger had left the premises, professors came to usher the students home, sternly admonishing them all to not make any detours and to avoid any trouble they might find along the way. Gathering up their belongings quickly, they filed out of the library with the others, Adrien practically vibrating with excitement.

“Did you see how it picked up the car and hurled it at the camera?” he asked, as though Nino hadn't been right beside him watching the entire thing. “And its voice – it sounded like Ivan, didn't it? I wonder how he got turned into that thing... Hey, maybe there's another _bigger_ supervillain turning people evil. Like a super-supervillain.”

“Bro,” Nino interrupted dryly, patting his friend's shoulder, “do the world a favor and never name anything.”

Adrien made a face at him, but his grin didn't stay away for long. “Hey, you want to come to my house? It's closer. We can watch the newscast together – see how it all turns out.”

“As tempting as that is, I'd better get home,” Nino said a bit regretfully. “My mom will be worried if I don't, even if I called.”

“Right. Talk to you later, then?”

“You know it.” With a wave, the two boys parted company, Adrien breaking into a jog to get home all the faster. He knew that the police would no-doubt figure out the situation, but he allowed his imagination to soar, anyway. _Superheroes. Paris could have superheroes._

0o0

The car had only just passed through the wrought iron gates of the mansion when sirens filled the air, growing louder as several police vehicles sped to take up positions on the road beyond the stone fence. Marinette barely waited for her bodyguard to bring the car to a stop before she was opening her door and hurrying towards the gate as it swung shut. Leaning into the sturdy metalwork, the girl craned her head to try to see what the officers were barricading against.

“Get inside!” one of them shouted at her, pointing insistently towards her house.

“But what is-” she broke off as the gate – and the ground, for that matter – shuddered. And then she could see it, a great stone creature approaching along the street, its every footfall causing the ground to shake. Blue eyes flew wide as the hair at the back of her neck stood on end and the girl took a step back.

“KIIIIIM!” the being roared, causing her heart to stutter in alarm.

“Marinette!” Nathalie shouted at her, a note of panic in her usually calm voice.

“I'm coming!” Marinette shouted back, whirling away from the scene. She tripped over her feet after a couple of steps, but quickly got them beneath her again, running all the way up the drive and to the mansion's front doors. Only then did she pause again to look over her shoulder, despite Nathalie frantically ushering her inside. She watched as the officers fired upon the stone creature, gasping when it seemed to absorb the impacts and grow in size. Then Nathalie had shoved her inside and slammed the door.

“Marinette,” her mother's assistant began.

“I'll be in my room!” the girl interrupted, dashing for the stairs. She didn't even spare a thought to be embarrassed when she tripped halfway up, her grip on the banister the only thing keeping her from falling on her face. Nathalie may have sighed, but her charge hadn't a thought for that, either.

Marinette had to know what was happening and turning on the news was her best bet of finding out.

Slamming the door in her haste, Marinette nearly tripped over her rug and the end of her sofa as she scrambled for the television remote. The mayor appeared on the screen, urging people to stay home. It was one of the more sensible things he'd said, really. He was soon replaced by the news anchor, who reported that the thing outside was a supervillain who was terrorizing Paris.

“Well, that's a bit obvious,” Marinette breathed incredulously, wincing as the police captain tried to gesture with his injured arm in the interview clip which followed. “But where did it come from?”

Her gaze dropped down to the coffee table as she belatedly noticed the small hexagonal box sitting there. The girl frowned. _What's this?_ she wondered. Had her mother gotten her something as a peace offering after that morning? That wasn't like her... A gift from her father, perhaps? But there had been no recent occasion to prompt the man to such a thing.

Reaching out a hand, Marinette picked up the box, fingers lightly trailing over the intricate design on its lid before she opened it.

0o0

“No way,” Adrien breathed to himself, avidly watching the news on his computer monitor. The boy wondered if there was really anything the police _could_ do, because it looked like they weren't having much success.

He fidgeted with the little black box that had been on his desk when he arrived. Blinking, the boy looked down at it in surprise, belatedly realizing that he had no idea what it was. He'd been so caught up in learning more about what was happening outside that he'd barely spared it a thought.

It certainly had his attention, now.

“What's this doing here?” he wondered aloud. He turned it over in his hands once more, then opened the lid. _A ring?_ The boy started when a green light bloomed from the center of the box, rising up into the air and blinking out of existence, only to be replaced by a small black creature resembling a cat. It stretched and yawned, as though wakened from a long nap.

Adrien's grin made a reappearance. “No way!” he exclaimed excitedly.

0o0

Marinette dropped the earrings and jumped back with a startled shriek, blue eyes wide in fright as she stared at the strange red creature that had emerged from the jewel box. “What's this? Some- some sort of bug? A rodent? A bug-rodent?” she stammered aloud, mind whirling in panic.

“No, calm down – don't be scared!” the creature implored in a sweet little voice.

_It talked!!!_

The girl grabbed for anything within reach to throw at this new threat, turning to run for her door. This time, however, she really did trip over her rug, landing hard on the plush carpet. So, she went with Plan B. She shouted for help.

“NATHALIE!”

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done 21 Feb 2018


	3. Pretty Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kwami greet their chosen and our heroes finally meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to everyone who has liked and commented on this story! It means so much to me and motivates me to keep writing more. As always, enjoy the chapter and be sure to let me know what you think!

“Marinette, no!” the red flying thing exclaimed, darting around so it was in front of the girl again. “No one must know I am here! Please, calm down. I'm your friend, truly!”

Marinette was already scrambling to her feet, blinking rapidly at the creature that was now hovering between her and the door. She would have shouted again, despite its placating, but her voice seemed to be failing her for a moment. It was a long enough moment, in fact, that its words were able to permeate the frightened girl's mind as she sucked in a few somewhat centering breaths.

“H-how do you know my name?” she demanded, holding herself stiffly and ready to start running again at the first sign of trouble. “Who are you? Wha- _what_ are you? How did you get in here?”

“My name is Tikki,” said the little being, “and I am a kwami. You were chosen to wield the Ladybug Miraculous that I am bound to. I am the one who will grant you your powers.”

The girl stared at the creature, Tikki, for a long moment, expression shifting from fearful wariness to bewildered confusion. “You're a what? Wait, did you just say powers?” the girl asked.

“That's right,” Tikki explained kindly, “as the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, you will wield powers to-”

“I tripped,” Marinette interrupted. “I tripped and fell and I hit my head. Obviously, I must have a massive concussion. That's why there's that thing outside and I'm hallucinating that there's a-a kwami in my room.” As the girl continued to speak, her words came more and more quickly, the pitch of her voice verging towards hysteria. “Any moment, now, I'm going to wake up in the hospital, and Papa will be there, trying to act like he isn't worried, but he is, and my Mother will be somewhere, looking like she thinks I did this on purpose, even though _I didn't_ , and Nathalie – poor Nathalie will be frantically trying to reschedule everything I'm going to have to miss because Maman will be _pissed_ if it all gets canceled-”

“-inette!” the kwami's voice cut through her rambling, tone full of urgent concern. “Marinette!”

The girl blinked down at her hands, which were curled into the pile of her carpet. At some point, her legs must have given out from under her because she was now on her knees. She could practically hear her heart hammering against her rib cage and even she thought her breathing was too quick. Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to let it out slowly.

“That's it,” Tikki said soothingly. “Slow, deep breaths. You're all right.”

Marinette lifted her head to peer at the kwami, a skeptical laugh breezing past her lips. “Am I? Because you're still here,” she pointed out. “No offense.”

Tikki gave her a kind smile. “None taken. It really will be all right, though.”

“Says the one who wants to give _me_ superpowers. Do you have any idea what a b-bad idea that is? I can't even get through an entire day without tripping and humiliating myself in front of a dozen different people, and you want me to help people? Like that's not a disaster waiting to happen,” she muttered. “Oh, god, I hope I wake up, soon.”

“This isn't a dream,” the kwami said gently, “you aren't hallucinating. Stoneheart really is terrorizing Paris this very second, and you really were chosen to carry a Miraculous that will give you powers.”

“No, you-”

“But no one is going to make you do anything you don't feel comfortable doing, Marinette. The Guardian chose you because he believes you will make a good Ladybug. He saw in you the qualities that would bring honor to the role. You were not chosen lightly!” Tikki told the girl earnestly.

Marinette laughed bitterly. “Well, obviously, your 'guardian' doesn't know the first thing about me,” she declared. “I-I'm no one. Certainly not a _hero_. I'm just...”

She tried to swallow back the words, those hurtful words she'd promised herself would never leave her mouth because they didn't matter, they didn't bother her. Only they did. They haunted her every lonely moment and now they were clawing up her throat and past her lips, causing tears to spring to her eyes as they went.

“I'm just another pretty face.”

Too late, Marinette pressed a hand over her mouth. Blue eyes clenched shut, sending twin streams down freckled cheeks. How many times had she heard others refer to her that way? How many photographers, frustrated by her chronic ungainliness, gritted those words out to their assistants between clenched teeth when they thought she wouldn't hear? How many jealous competitors, jealous parents, jealous managers? How many panic-inducing pimples had she been terrified would scab over and scar, leaving her face blemished and mother disappointed?

_She wouldn't even have this shoot if she weren't the designer's daughter._

_Such a klutz! Good thing she's pretty, otherwise, she wouldn't have anything._

_Marinette, have you been keeping up with your daily face regimen? Your complexion has been a bit poor._

“Is that what you really believe?”

Tikki's kindly voice caused the girl to start, teary blue eyes blinking open to stare. The kwami's own blue eyes gazed back as she offered a small smile.

“Do you really think that about yourself, or is that just what people say of you?” she asked again.

“I...” Marinette began, blinking to clear her vision. To her mortification, her voice was a bit hoarse. “I don't want to believe it, but...”

“Then, wouldn't that be even more reason to prove them all wrong?”

The girl slowly shook her head, not in denial, but doubt. “But I can't,” she protested, “I'm just... I'm just... me.”

Tikki moved in closer, movement slow to gauge the teen's reaction to her proximity. When Marinette made no attempt to back away, the kwami drew near enough to gently stroke her cheek before moving into her line of sight, once more.

“You're capable of more than you think,” she said wisely. “The Guardian saw the potential. He saw it in you, Marinette. I see it, too.”

“You do?” Marinette hadn't meant for the words to come out as a whisper, but they did.

The kwami's answering smile was bright and encouraging. “Absolutely!”

A warmth spread through the girl's chest. Someone saw something beyond her face, something inside of her. When was the last time anyone had done that?

Rising slowly to her feet, Marinette lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. A nervous sort of smile found its way onto her face. She drew in a breath, then let it back out.

“A-all right, then,” the model said, “tell me about this Miraculous you want me to wield.”

0o0

“Will you-” Adrien attempted, dodging around the end of his chaise as he jogged across his room. “That isn't-” The boy switched directions as the cat creature darted the other side of the space.

“What's this?” it murmured with interest, landing on his video game controller. “This looks good.” He gnawed at the handle a moment, then stuck out his little tongue. “Blegh!”

“That's not edible, either,” the teenager huffed. “Nothing in here, right now, is edible!”

Plagg, for his name was about the only information he offered up before proceeding to taste all his belongings, started to the opposite end of the room again. This time, Adrien managed to jump up and catch the creature, the effort causing him to practically face-plant into his chaise.

“You still haven't told me what you're doing here,” Adrien said in response to the look the creature gave him. “Who are you? What are you doing here? Do you have something to do with that thing outside? Are you a superhero?”

“Fine,” Plagg sighed. “I'm a kwami. I was put here because _you_ were chosen to wield superpowers. I'm the one who will grant them to you. Anything else? I'm hungry.”

“No way!” Adrien repeated, sitting up on the edge of the seat. He loosened his hold when the kwami wriggled, allowing him to sit unfettered on his open palm. “Me, a superhero? Really?”

“If that is what you'd like. You will have the powers to help defeat the villain outside, and any other villain who might arise,” stated the kwami.

“Help? Does that mean I'll have a partner?” the teen asked, grinning broadly. “There'll be more than one of us? We'll have secret identities, right? What sort of powers? This is so cool – tell me everything!”

Looking rather smug and pleased with himself, Plagg proceeded to do just that.

0o0

 _Super Cat, Super Cat,_ Adrien sang in his head to a random tune as he tread across his baton like it was a high wire. His boots seemed especially well-equipped for gripping various surfaces, or perhaps he just had great balance.

“One may even say, _purr_ -fect poise,” he finished the thought aloud with an amused smirk for his own pun. That would be his thing, Adrien decided just then as he carefully executed a turn on his impromptu balancing beam. When in costume, he was going to spout as many cat-related puns as he could. He could practically hear Nino groan dramatically over his lame humor – a thought which made him frown when he remembered he wasn't supposed to tell his friend about any of this.

A sound drew the new teen hero's gaze to the sky, luminous green eyes widening as a large red object flew shrieking towards him. He gave a surprised squawk as the object – a girl, it turned out – collided with him, knocking him bodily from the baton only for the both of them to end up tangled together and dangling upside-down a couple feet above the street.

“Nice of you to drop in,” the boy quipped, offering a grin.

The girl's face was a brilliant scarlet beneath the red mask that she wore. “I'm so sorry about this!” she said, sounding mortified.

“No harm done!” Adrien responded reassuringly. He managed to disentangle himself from the string and proceeded to help her do the same. “You must be my new partner. It's a good thing you came along, because I was just trying to figure out how I'd find you.”

“Looks like I came to you,” she said a bit faintly. She tugged at the string, which was still caught on something above them.

“I must have summoned you with my thoughts,” joked the boy. “Psychic magnetism must be one of my powers.”

The girl paused to look at him, frowning a bit, which Adrien immediately thought looked adorable – especially with the pigtails on either side of her head. Much like his own costume, hers appeared to be one piece, only instead of being black with the appearance and feel of leather, hers was red with black spots, and appeared to be made of a more breathable material.

“Psychic magnetism isn't actually a power,” she said a bit hesitantly, tugging once more at the thread, “it's a-”

“Oh, I know!” Adrien reassured her, because the last thing he wanted was for his partner to think he was dumb. Although, he was a bit surprised she was familiar with the term. “I know. I was just kitten.”

She had given another hard pull just as she sent him a bewildered look at his pun. He didn't have time to be amused with her response, however, as that final tug brought both his baton and her own weapon – a yo-yo made out of something incredibly dense – down upon his head.

“I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, both gloved hands flying to her mouth. “It was an accident. I'm so clumsy – I told my kwami this was a bad idea!”

“And here, I just thought you didn't like my humor,” said Adrien as he rubbed his head. He shot her a grin to show he wasn't upset at all. “Don't worry about it. We're both new at this, right?”

“I-I guess so,” she conceded, gaze still avoiding his own.

The boy decided that his partner had to be the shyest, most adorable girl he had ever met. He hadn't been sure what to expect. He still wasn't sure what to expect. They were still figuring things out, after all. All he knew for certain was that he couldn't wait to see how the girl would surprise him.

Adrien thrust a hand towards her. “I'm... Chat Noir,” he introduced himself. “Pleased to make your acquaintance."

“Oh,” the girl said softly, looking at his hand as though she were surprised. A small, uncertain smile found its way onto her lips as she timidly placed her palm against his own. “I'm...” She gave a little frown, glancing at him, then down at herself before coming to a decision. “Ladybug. Call me Ladybug.”

Chat Noir gave Ladybug's hand a firm and friendly shake until a sound in the distance behind him drew his attention. He started towards it, still holding her hand. She pulled back, drawing his gaze back to her.

“Where are you going?!” Ladybug hissed, eyes wide in alarm.

“To save Paris!” the boy answered as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “It's why we're here, right? We're going to be superheroes!”

Ladybug stared at him in bewilderment, gaze searching his face. He seemed so certain, so confident. Wasn't he even a little afraid?

Chat Noir gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a smile which disoriented her for an entirely different reason. Gently tugging her arm, he tilted his head towards the sound of chaos beyond them. “You coming?” he asked.

Ladybug managed to stammer out a few aborted syllables before finally nodding her head. “Com-coming,” she murmured softly.

Her partner rewarded her with a grin. “Let's go!”

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done 21 Feb 2018


	4. Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time things seem to be going right, they all go wrong again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has given this story love so far. It's all very much appreciated. And an extra special thanks to all those who've taken the time to comment. Your kind words mean so much to me! <3

“We did it!” Marinette enthused, twirling across her rug in a rare show of exuberance.

Despite her initial reservations (and the fact she'd literally though unintentionally tackled the guy upon first meeting), working together with Chat Noir had been incredible. Even though neither of them really knew what they were doing yet, their collaboration had come easily. Marinette wondered how much easier their combined efforts would be in the future. While she didn't exactly long for another villain to fight against, part of her felt giddy at the thought of seeing her partner again.

“We did it,” the girl practically sighed as she flopped down onto her sofa.

She pictured again the black butterfly fluttering away, the swell of accomplishment that had accompanied the moment filling her once more. Chat Noir's grin played in her mind – oh, but he had seemed so cool and confident! He'd reminded her of nothing so much as an excited puppy, though, despite being a cat.

 _Bien joue!_ His voice had been warm and bright, his words making a home for themselves among her happier memories. She could almost feel the way his knuckles had fit against hers from the fist-bump they'd shared.

“Well done, Marinette!” Tikki praised her chosen, sharing the girl's enthusiasm.

“We helped that boy,” Marinette said, drawing her knees up to hug them against her chest. “He doesn't seem like the type who usually hurts people, I don't think. He was just acting that way because the akuma made his bad feelings seem bigger. And... and he was being controlled, too, right?”

“That's right. His negative emotions were being used to manipulate him,” the kwami confirmed.

The teenager laid her head atop her knees, smiling lightly at Tikki. It was a very contented expression and the little kwami felt that she wanted her new charge to look that way more often. Through their limited interaction, she felt that contentment did not often come to the girl.

On the television, the news played quietly. Marinette's attention turned to it, now. Talk of some event being held for Paris' new heroes had been the topic for some while. As she watched, however, it suddenly changed as a breaking news report aired.

“ _..a new wave of panic sweeps across Paris as dozens of people are being turned into stone monsters...”_

A loud ringing sounded in Marinette's ears as she lifted her head. Her arms fell from around her legs, her feet slipping from the couch cushion to the floor. She gaped in mounting horror, blue eyes wide.

“Wh-what's happening?” she questioned, voice breaking on the words. “We... we stopped it!”

“Did you capture the akuma?” Tikki asked urgently, swooping in closer to the girl.

“Capture it?” Marinette vaguely recalled Tikki saying something about capturing the akuma, but at the time, the task had slipped her mind. “What does the akuma have to do with what's happening now?”

“An akuma can multiply itself. That's why it must be captured and purified,” the kwami explained. “If not, then it can turn the boy from before back into Stoneheart the next time he feels negative emotions. He'll be able to control all the other transformed people. They'll be like his personal army.”

Were she not safely seated, Marinette would have been certain she was falling. The ringing had started up in her head again, louder this time. It was so loud, in fact, that she pressed her hands over both ears, as though that would lessen the roar.

“Marinette?” Tikki's voice cut through the noise, prompting a response from the girl.

“So... what you're saying... is that this is all my fault,” Marinette said, voice thick and eyes glistening.

“No!” the kwami denied. “No, no – don't think that way. It was your very first time! You'll go back, and you'll capture Stoneheart's akuma. You'll definitely succeed, this time! I believe in you.”

“You're wrong! I'm not cut out for this, at all. I... I always do everything wrong,” the girl declared. “I can't do it, Tikki. I'm an horrendous klutz – I can only make things worse. Chat Noir... Chat Noir will do better without me. I quit.”

“You can't!” Tikki protested. “You're the only one who can capture the akuma and fix all the damage done by the villains. Chat Noir definitely needs you, Marinette!”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head at the kwami's words. “Well, if Chat Noir can't do it alone, then find him a new Ladybug. I can't do it. I'm sorry, Tikki.” She reached up to take off the earrings.

The kwami gave a gasp, eyes widening. “No, don't-”

“Tikki?” the girl murmured, looking up when the creature's voice suddenly cut out. She was alone, now, however. Just like she'd always been before. As though the brief window in which Tikki had been there and she was someone chosen, someone important, was little more than a dream.

Replacing the earrings to their box, Marinette stared at them a moment. Her fingers lingered near the edge of the velvety cushion. Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow breath. Then, she shut the box, leaving it abandoned on the coffee table.

0o0

The night passed in fitful chunks, wherein Marinette would sleep a short while, only to start awake again feeling less rested than she had before. By the time morning arrived, there was little to be done for the dark shadows beneath her eyes, and the girl gave it up as a battle lost. At breakfast, she chased her cereal around the bowl with her spoon. She hadn't brought more than two or three bites to her mouth before allowing the rest to become irredeemably soggy.

“Marinette,” Nathalie addressed her, drawing the girl's gaze.

“I'm fine,” Marinette murmured. “Just not hungry this morning.” She rose out of her seat, grabbing up her phone from where it had waited on the table beside her before heading back towards her room. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, the device vibrated in her hand. Blinking at the idea that anyone would be texting her so early in the morning, she peered down at the little screen curiously.

Chloé: _Come to your back door._

The brunette frowned. _Why?_ she texted back.

Chloé: _Just do it!_

Brows furrowing, Marinette moved around the foot of the staircase and down the corridor which led towards the back of the mansion. As she rounded the final corner, she could see a figure standing on the doorstep, although the rippling of the obscured glass made it impossible for her to determine who. She had her suspicions.

Hesitating but a moment, she opened the door. “Chloé!” she exclaimed. The blonde gave her a smug look. “Shouldn't you be at school?”

“Shouldn't you?” Chloé parroted back.

“I'm not allowed,” Marinette said with a small frown. “Maman won't let me.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Well, you didn't actually think she would just _let_ you,” she said a bit condescendingly. “That's why you tried to sneak out in the first place. You did at least try, didn't you?” The other girl narrowed her eyes a bit suspiciously.

“Of course I did! I promised! Nathalie and Gorilla caught me before I could make it inside,” the model explained. “It's no use. The same thing would just happen again.”

The blonde gave a derisive huff. “It certainly will with that attitude. Honestly, Mari – you give up too easily on the things you want. Why do you think I came to pick you up, today?”

Marinette blinked at her friend. Then, she leaned out the door a bit to see around the blonde. “You brought your car,” she murmured, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips. “A car would be faster than walking...”

“Exactly,” Chloé said with an arrogant tilt of her head. “Now, are you coming, or not?” To most, Chloé would only have appeared demanding in that moment, but Marinette had known the girl since they were children. She could see the glimmer of hope and uncertainty in those sky blue eyes. It made her feel a surge of affection for her only friend.

“Three minutes!” she exclaimed, keeping her voice soft. “Let me get my bag.” Quietly closing the door, Marinette dashed for the nearest staircase, taking the stairs as quickly as she could without tripping over her own feet.

Rushing into her room, she made a beeline for the shoulder bag that was still packed from the previous day. She double-checked to make sure she had everything she thought she might need for a real class in a real school, then hoisted the bag to her shoulder. As she turned back towards the door, her gaze caught on the small jewel box holding the ladybug earrings. Marinette deliberated for all of half a minute before impulsively snatching it up with one hand even as she grabbed her purse with the other. Stuffing the earrings into the handbag, she rushed from the room and back the way she had come, half-tripping down the stairs as she went.

As she pulled open the door where Chloé was still waiting, a voice called to her from behind. “Marinette!” Nathalie's tone was a bit severe, causing her charge to freeze in her steps.

“Mari!” Chloé snapped. The blonde grabbed her and pulled her out the door, causing her to let out a startled squeak. “Come _on_!”

She kept a firm hold on Marinette's wrist as she half-dragged her to the waiting car. It was a good thing that she did, too, as the model kept looking back over her shoulder. Nathalie looked so disappointed. Here she was, causing trouble for the woman all over again. It made her feel guilty.

“Marinette! Are you coming or not?” Chloé urged, tugging on her arm to get her attention. Marinette looked at her uncertainly. She wanted to go to school. More than anything, she wanted to go to school and meet new people and make new friends. Chloé always made it sound so fun and wonderful and lively. Marinette wanted to experience that for herself, but at the same time...

“Marinette, do not do this,” Nathalie told her sternly, drawing the girl's attention back to herself. “Your mother-”

The woman knew that was the wrong thing to say the moment the word crossed her lips. Almost instantly, Marinette's expression had gone from uncertainty to that bull-headed determination she always exhibited when she felt she was being denied something unreasonably.

“She'll have to drag me out herself!” Marinette declared willfully. Whirling about, she climbed quickly into the Bourgeois car, her spoiled little friend shooting the woman an unseemly smirk before getting in behind her.

Nathalie sighed, pulling out her phone and hitting one of the speed dials. “Ready the car,” she said, even though she'd already decided that her charge had won this battle. An effort had to at least be made, however, otherwise, Madame Cheng would be furious. Not that she wouldn't be, anyway. “We have to get to the school.”

“I'm so glad you came!” Chloé told Marinette earnestly, holding the girl's hand between both of her own.

Marinette gave a small smile. “We're still not there, yet, Chlo,” she pointed out.

“You're such a pessimist. Do you really think that by the time Nathalie and the Gorilla get your car ready that they'll be able to get to the school in time to stop you from going inside?” The blonde gave a scoff. “Perhaps if the Gorilla _ran_ , but we both know he isn't going to do that.”

“You're probably right,” the black-haired girl conceded.

Chloé tossed her head. “I'm always right,” she declared.

“I wouldn't go that far,” her friend said quietly, earning an incredulous gape.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am surprised at you,” she stated facetiously. “Absolutely surprised.” She finally let her hands fall away from Marinette's as she leaned back into the seat and folded her arms over her chest.

“Thank, Chlo,” Marinette murmured softly. Chloé gave her own soft smile in response.

0o0

“She came! She really came, today!” Rose exclaimed excitedly, rushing into the classroom with Juleka not far behind her. The petite blonde cupped her face with both hands. “She's even prettier in person! Do you think she'll want to be friends?” She directed this question at Juleka, who only smiled a bit indulgently. Rose was a fan of anything pretty or cute.

“Who came today?” Kim asked from his seat, voicing the question that had popped into most everyone's minds.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! She's here! Oh, dear... she'll be here any minute. Do you think we should greet her, or-or introduce ourselves later?” Rose turned questioning eyes to her best friend.

“I think we should sit down,” Juleka stated pragmatically. “We wouldn't want to scare her.”

“That's right! What if she's shy?”

“More like, what if she a spoiled snob?” Alix scoffed. “Even if she wasn't a model, she's still friends with Chloé.” Several of the others murmured or nodded in agreement and Rose looked a bit saddened by this prospect as Juleka herded her to their seats.

“Dude, can you imagine having _two_ Chloés in this class?” Nino said to Adrien. “And both of them right behind us. Totally uncool.”

“Maybe she's nice,” Adrien said doubtfully.

His best friend gave an indelicate snort. “And maybe we're Paris' new superheroes.”

Adrien burst into a sudden, violent coughing fit, and Nino pounded him on the back with a look of concern. It seemed a bit odd, as he hadn't said anything all that outlandish, but Adrien was a bit strange at times, anyway. It was part of what made them such good friends – they both had their weird moments.

“You all right, bro?” Nino asked when Adrien finally stopped.

“Yeah,” Adrien replied, clearing his throat a bit and smiling sheepishly. He scratched the back of his head with one hand. “Just choked on some spit.” Before Nino could comment one way or the other, the object of their conversation walked into the room with Chloé and Sabrina.

“It's only inevitable that you'd have to sit next to stupid people,” the dark-haired girl was saying. She slowed to a stop as she looked up to find several pairs of eyes on her. Blinking a bit, the girl started to say something else, but Adrien beat her to the punch.

“Well,” the boy drawled, feeling a burst of irritation not so much for himself but for his friends, “I suppose we'll try not to let our stupidity be too catching. We are pretty dumb, though, so you may just wanna keep your distance.”

“What? N- I didn...”

He watched her eyes widen as she stammered, almost like she was confused, before something sparked in their depths and her expression blanked. Marinette lifted her chin, a faint blush staining her cheeks. No doubt due to being caught acting like such a bigot, Adrien thought a bit uncharitably. She started to take a half-step backwards, only to start when a hand pressed against her shoulder blade.

“Watch it,” Alya said mildly, passing behind the three girls. Marinette shot her only a brief look before diverting her gaze.

“See?” Chloé leaned in to whisper to her, Sabrina nodding in earnest agreement. “What did I tell you?” She patted the girl's shoulder a bit patronizingly before gesturing to the empty desk behind Adrien and Nino. “Our seats are right there. I saved you a place right next to me.”

“But what about Sabrina?” Marinette asked quietly, glancing at the redhead.

“Oh, I have a seat over here in the front,” Sabrina said brightly. (Alya slouched a bit lower in her seat at this.)

“Oh,” the model said, seeming to hesitate. “Okay.” She turned to take the steps leading up past Nino, only for the toe of her shoe to catch on the first stair and send her sprawling. A rash of tittering laughs spread throughout the class.

“Mari!”

“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked, turning in his seat and offering a hand without much forethought.

The color in Marinette's cheeks had spread so that the tips of her ears and half of her face was red. Gritting her teeth, she brushed off the proffered hand and pushed herself back to her feet. “I'm fine,” she bit out.

Nino shrugged. If she was going to be like that, she was certainly welcome to it.

Making it the rest of the way to the seat, Marinette set her bag down and sat down stiffly, shoulders squared and chin still up. One would think her little tumble would put a little humility in her, but apparently spoiled rich fashion models had tough hides. Granted, Chloé had a rather thick skin, herself, so maybe it came as no surprise that a friend of hers would be equally unabashed.

Adrien rested his chin in one palm as the final bell rang and the rest of the class took their seats. It was just their luck, he thought a bit glumly as Mlle. Bustier started off the lesson with roll call. Two Chloés – and both of them right behind them.

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done 21 Feb 2018


	5. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette makes a new friend and finds a new determination.

****_Approximately three minutes before the overheard tail of the conversation..._

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“Marinette?!”

“Marinette, you're so pretty. Can we please have your autograph?”

Marinette gave a smile, blinking in the face of so many people gathering around. She gave a nod, readily agreeing to the request, ever the proper celebrity model. Even her mother may have been proud of her little act. For that is what it was: an act. Anyone who cared or knew to look might have noticed that her shoulders were held too stiffly for a truly casual posture or that she had started blinking a bit too often or that the manner in which her lip kept catching between her teeth was more nervous than playful.

“All right, enough!” Chloé broke in after the fifth or sixth magazine had been shoved at the dark-haired girl. “She's here to attend school – you'll make her late!”

She tugged Marinette closer by the arm a bit protectively, the tone of her voice alone prompting Sabrina to start waving people off. Marinette looked over at the blonde as she steered her forward, eyes questioning.

“You were wearing your public face,” Chloé stated dismissively. She elaborated when Marinette continued staring at her instead of where they were going. “That smile? The one you wear for photo-shoots? Well, you plaster it all over your face every time you're uncomfortable. It's so fake. I mean, I suppose it's good enough to fool most people, but I know you better than that. It's not you. It's your mother, _maybe_ , but not you.”

“Chlo...” Marinette murmured, a very small but very genuine smile tugging at her lips.

“Stop looking at me that way,” Chloé grumbled, reaching with her free hand to turn the model's head forward. “Watch where we're going. There are stairs.”

Marinette kept her gaze ahead, but a hint of a smile remained on her features. Chloé wasn't always the most empathetic person. In fact, the blonde was extremely selfish more often than not. There were moments, however, when she was reminded why she considered the girl a friend. It wasn't just that Chloé was the only person she really knew.

“I'm so glad you're here, now,” Chloé declared as they reached the top of the stairs. “It will be _so_ nice to have someone with some sense around. Our class is simply populated with idiots.”

And then there were less magical moments when the blonde reminded her how preposterously arrogant she was.

Marinette gave a delicate snort. “Please. Chloé, you think everyone is stupid. With that mindset,” she pointed out as they walked into the classroom, “it's only inevitable that you'd have to sit next to 'stupid' people.” The faint hint of teasing in her eyes was promptly replaced by surprise as she lifted her gaze to find that at least half the seats in the room were already occupied. Naturally, it seemed like everyone's attention was on her. Super.

There was nothing for it. She'd known the moment she decided that she wanted to attend school that she'd inevitably garner attention, if not for her model status, then for simply being the newcomer. Drawing in a breath, Marinette opened her mouth to issue a greeting to her new classmates.

“Well,” a blond boy in the front cut in, “I suppose we'll try not to let our stupidity be too catching. We are pretty dumb, though, so you may just wanna keep your distance.”

Wait. What? Marinette found herself stammering in surprise. Why would anyone think that she..? _Oh_. She felt her heart sink. Of course. They'd only heard the last bit of the conversation. Marinette schooled her expression as best she could. There'd been a time when she might have tried to explain, but she'd learned the hard way how futile that could be. If people wanted to believe ill of her, they'd always find something to validate their opinion.

She must have taken a step backwards, for she nearly collided with an auburn-haired girl that had entered the room behind them. Chloé was practically gloating as she leaned in. “See?” the blonde whispered. Marinette saw, all right, but probably not the way Chloé meant.

It was just her luck that her first interaction with people her own age would be tainted by misunderstanding. The boys in the front certainly seemed unenthused by her arrival, as did some of the other students. Maybe she should have remained at home, after all, if this was the welcome she would find.

The idea that Chloé insisted upon her sitting with her both comforted Marinette and made her more anxious. She was not that well-acquainted with Sabrina, although the red-head seemed nice enough. Or at least, willing to cater to Chloé's every whim. Still, Marinette did not like the idea of displacing Chloé's long-time friend and seatmate. It seemed far too close to the privilege and special treatment people often accused her of receiving.

That was when her first day of school decided to veer from awkward to mortifying, because heavens forbid Marinette Dupain-Cheng be able to walk up a few measly steps without falling right on her face. Her face was on fire, the buzz of mortification which filled her head doing nothing to drown up the tittering laughs which followed.

Wanting nothing more than to bury her face in her arms, Marinette sat with her shoulders squared and chin up. Her first day of school was bound to be a long one – and it might prove to be her last.

0o0

Classes were blessedly similar to lessons, only with more people and no Nathalie. Marinette plied her attention to taking notes even though most of the information was familiar to her. She noticed the blond boy shooting her the occasional glance over his shoulder, but she dutifully ignored him. What she didn't notice was that the girl seated next to Sabrina had also shot her a few appraising looks.

When lunch arrived, Marinette slowly returned her belongings to her bag, allowing the other students to rush out around her. A blonde tried to stop and talk to her, but she was ushered along by a tall girl with purple highlights in her hair.

“Marinette, hurry up,” Chloé told her. “Aren't you hungry? I'm practically famished. You are joining Sabrina and I for lunch, aren't you? If you go home to eat, they probably won't let you leave again.”

“Probably not,” Marinette agreed with a sigh. “Hey, Chlo, is it okay if I meet you two downstairs? I need to stop in the restroom.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Yes. I saw the sign on the way in.”

“Very well, then,” the blonde agreed. “Sabrina.” The other two filed out of the room, Sabrina following Chloé like some bespectacled Irish Setter.

It was only after they had left that Marinette blew out a breath, slumping back in her seat as she brought her hands up to cover her face. Things were not going her way, anywhere. She couldn't even manage as a normal person, no wonder she couldn't cut it as a superhero. She needed to find whoever this “Guardian” was and give him the earrings back, because there was no way she would be a good Ladybug.

“Why didn't you explain earlier?”

Marinette started, hands falling from her face as her posture straightened out of sheer habit. She blinked at the auburn-haired girl standing just inside the door to the classroom. She seemed oddly familiar. “Pardon?”

“This morning, when you came in,” the girl clarified, moving forward to lean a hip against the front desk. “Why didn't you explain that you were calling blondie out instead of letting people take what you said all wrong?”

“I'm not sure what you're talking about,” Marinette denied primly.

“I was stuck behind you guys. I heard the whole conversation. You weren't saying that you think everybody's stupid, you were mocking Chloé for thinking that way.”

The brunette diverted her gaze to her hands, fighting back a frown. “It's not likely to matter that much,” she said, tone threaded through with resignation.

“Um, it's likely to matter _a lot_ ,” the other girl contradicted. “Look, I've only been here a day myself, but it's long enough to learn that Chloé is bad news. The reason everyone is so quick to think you're a snob is because they know you're friends with her. She looks down on everyone. My advice? If you want to get on with people here, you've gotta make other friends, and fast.”

“I'm not just going to stop being friends with Chloé because others don't like her,” Marinette retorted, glaring a bit. “Maybe Chloé's far from perfect, but she is my friend – my only friend.”

“She's also a bully,” stated her classmate. “I'm not saying to stop being friends with her. Hell, she seems to be pretty decent to you, but everyone else needs to know you're not like her. At least, I don't think you are. That means making new friends. That's why you came to school, right?”

“I-” The black-haired girl had opened her mouth to protest, but found that the other girl wasn't wrong. She might not like hearing someone say bad things about her only friend, but Marinette was all too aware of Chloé Bourgeois' faults. “I did want more friends,” she admitted, instead, an insecure flush staining her cheeks.

Her classmate moved closer, kneeling in the empty seat in front of her and extending a hand. “Alya Césaire. Budding reporter and comic book fan.”

 _That's right_. It was only when the girl mentioned it that Marinette put together why she had seemed familiar. Alya had been there the day before, when she was Ladybug, eagerly recording with her phone while she and Chat Noir had faced Stoneheart. The girl hadn't even seemed afraid, even though she herself had been terrified.

“Marinette,” she replied after somewhat too long of a pause, she hesitantly accepted the proffered hand. “Awkward klutz, but for some reason people like to take pictures of me.”

Alya gave a hearty laugh, slipping out of the seat to stand again. “First things first, you obviously need some more confidence,” she declared. “Of course, people want to take pictures of you – you're super pretty! In fact...” The girl raised her phone and snapped a picture before Marinette could lift a hand up to fend her off.

“Hey!” the model protested.

“Now that I have your contact image, I just need your number?” For the first time in their exchange, Alya seemed uncertain as she held out her phone, a new contact page awaiting information on the little screen.

Marinette couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed. In general, she wasn't a big fan of people taking pictures of her without warning. She endured far too many cameras in her face to be fond of more.

Heaving an obviously forced sigh, she took the cellphone before it could be withdrawn. “Fine,” she said lightly, “but only so long as you don't post it anywhere strange.” That being another reason she was none too fond of pictures.

“I won't,” Alya promised with a grin as she accepted her phone back. “I'll text you so you have my number?”

Nodding, Marinette rose from her seat, setting her bag atop the desk so she could fish out her phone. It chimed just as she found it and she gave a small grin at the string of silly smile emojis Alya had sent to her. Chewing her lip a bit indecisively, she finally held out her phone to the girl. “Would you like to put in your information?” she asked.

“Yes!” Alya took her phone and entered her contact details with swift fingers. When she handed it back, Marinette laughed to find her new friend had put herself in as 'Awesomest Reporter Ever'.

“What if I forget that's you?” she questioned, a note of teasing in her tone.

“As if! Besides, that's what contact images are for,” the other girl responded. Alya proceeded to do a silly pose and held it until Marinette finally lifted her phone and snapped a picture.

“I should go,” Marinette said, tucking her phone away. “I promised Chloé I'd join her and Sabrina for lunch. Thank you. For wanting to talk to me. I...” But how did she explain why so simple a thing meant so much? How she had long resigned herself to people being quick to believe the worst of her rather than trying to see the best? Such an explanation would only seem like a bid so sympathy, and Marinette felt pathetic enough without making herself more pitiable. “Just, thank you.”

Alya gave a grin and fell in step beside her. “Mine is an ongoing quest for truth and justice!” she declared. “And no one deserves to be stuck in a box unfairly.”

It was with a lighter heart than before that Marinette left the classroom and headed down the stairs, Alya at her side. She couldn't say that she had ever met a person like Alya. The girl seemed so outspoken and genuine, and Marinette found herself a bit envious of the confidence the girl seemed to exude. It struck her that someone like Alya would have been a better choice for a hero than a person like herself.

“There's Chloé,” Marinette said, gesturing to where she could see the blonde and Sabrina among a group of other students.

Alya was obviously fighting back a grimace. “Just remember you need other friends, too,” she said.

“I thought I had another friend, now,” the model replied, earning a grin. She started towards the group, gripping the strap of her bag more tightly as she drew nearer.

“I'm sorry,” a broad-shouldered boy was saying. Marinette recognized him as the boy the akuma had possessed the day before. The one she thought was probably kind. “It wasn't me!”

“You know what they say,” Chloé responded condescendingly. “'Once a monster, always a monster!'”

The boy was obviously hurt by this, and he stalked away, hands clenched into fists at his side. Marinette and Alya stepped aside to let him pass.

“Good! We'll feel safer with you gone!” Chloé called out.

Marinette could hear Alya fuming at her side, but she didn't pay much attention to it just then. Instead, she whirled about, her pretty features drawn into an unusual scowl. “Chloé!” she admonished sharply.

Surprise flickered across the blonde's face, unaccustomed to the other girl taking such a tone with her. “What?” she defended herself. “I was just saying what we all were thinking!”

Eyes were on her, boring into her, the attention trying to dig under her skin the way it always did. Only this time, Marinette didn't have the time to let it get to her, to allow it to cow her into somebody more soft-spoken and compliant. There was something far more important that making sure Chloé or anyone else found her likable. Tikki had warned her that negative emotions could cause the boy to become possessed again. Chloé had just put him and the entire city at risk.

“Well, if that's how you think, then you certainly don't speak for _me_!” Marinette declared. Spinning about on her heel, she went after the boy, following him to where he'd retreated to the locker room. The blonde had called out to her, but she paid her no mind.

Marinette let the door to the room close quietly behind her, suddenly apprehensive in the large, quiet room. She wasn't sure what she was going to do next. Following the boy had been on complete impulse. Now that she had, the girl felt at a loss. Nevertheless, she moved along the rows of lockers until she found him, sitting on the floor with headphones over his ears and his phone in one hand.

“Um, hello?” she said.

He didn't hear her and his eyes were closed, so Marinette moved timidly forward, crouching down beside him and placing a hesitant hand on his arm. His eyes snapped opened and he looked at her, reaching up slowly to remove his headphones. She withdrew her hand.

“It's Ivan, right?” Marinette queried quietly. “Are you okay?”

Ivan gazed at her uncertainly, clearly judging her sincerity. He must have found something reassuring in her expression, for he eventually answered. “I didn't mean to hurt anyone,” he said softly. “I don't even like violence. But... Kim, he was teasing me and then _that_ happened. I couldn't stop it.”

“It must have been scary,” the girl offered kindly. “What was Kim teasing you about?” She already knew, of course. She had seen the note the previous day during her brief time as Ladybug. As far as Ivan knew, though, this was their first time talking, so she had to pretend otherwise.

“Well... I... I like this girl, Mylène. She's the one with the pretty, colorful hair,” Ivan told her. Marinette nodded; she knew who he was talking about, now. “She's very nice, but I... I don't have the confidence to confess to her. Kim says this makes me a coward. But I'm not! He's the coward!”

Marinette felt a thrill of concern as Ivan's temper appeared to flair. Her response was a bit rushed, but earnest. “I don't think that makes you a coward at all! A lot of people are nervous about confessing to their crushes, right? But... but maybe you should tell her how you feel? She might like you back. You never know until you try.”

He was looking at her again and Marinette felt uncertainty creep upon her as she failed to determine what he was thinking. “I'm no good with words,” he said finally, heaving a disheartened sigh.

“That's okay!” Marinette encouraged brightly. “You could pick her flowers, or-or write her a note. You just have to stay positive.”

“I could write her a song?” Ivan offered.

“That would be perfect! A love song for her. I bet she'll love it!”

Ivan studied her intently for a moment. “You're a lot nicer than I thought you'd be,” he told her softly.

Marinette gave a somewhat pained smile. “Seems like a lot of people feel that way,” she said.

“I'm glad. Everyone thought you might be like Chloé, or Sabrina. I like you better like this.”

“Oh. Well, um... thanks?”

The boy gave her a small grin and levered himself to his feet. Marinette watched as he hurried away, ostensibly to go write a song for Mylène. Standing herself, the girl let out a sigh. It made her glad that people seemed to like her once she'd spoken to them one on one, yet unhappy that Chloé seemed to be so universally disliked. She knew the blonde had her faults, but was she really so awful to her classmates?

As she left the locker room a moment later, the looks shot her way gave Marinette the rather uncomfortable suspicion that Chloé was exactly that awful to her classmates.

0o0

Marinette didn't join Chloé and Sabrina for lunch, after all. The blonde and redhead had apparently left after Marinette's calling out of the former, leaving her to fend for herself. Fortunately, Alya had been quick to give her company, making what might have been a lonely break pass pleasantly. The more Marinette became acquainted with the auburn-haired girl, the more fond she became of her.

Soon, the bell warning that classes were about to start again rang out, and students started rushing back to their respective classes. Alya was talking excitedly about her encounter with Ladybug and Chat Noir as they mounted the stairs.

“But what about all these stone people?” Marinette questioned with a pensive frown. “Don't you think that if Ladybug hadn't messed up, none of this would be happening still?”

“Not at all! She'll definitely fix it,” Alya stated confidently. “She and Chat Noir are new, aren't they? You can't expect even superheroes to get everything right the first time. I mean, just look at the faux pas you've made just being new at school.”

“Gee, thanks,” the raven-haired girl muttered.

“All I mean is, it takes a bit for people to get used to new things, right? And sometimes, you get things wrong, but learn from them, and then you do things right the next time,” the other girl said reasonably. They walked into the classroom and Alya reached out to put a hand on Marinette's shoulder. “You should come sit with me.”

Marinette glanced over at the empty table Alya had been sharing with Sabrina. Her lips pressed into an indecisive line as her gaze ticked to the vacant seats behind the two boys. The blond was giving her that look a lot of the others had after she admonished Chloé, while his friend kept his attention on his phone, listening to something with his headphones. She turned back to Alya with an apologetic grimace.

“Chloé would be disappointed,” she said quietly.

Alya looked unhappy about this, but gave a relenting sigh. “Just think about it, okay?” she asked. Marinette nodded and the two girls parted to go to their seats. This time, Marinette managed to avoid falling on her face.

About a minute later, Chloé and Sabrina entered, the blonde's gaze immediately darting over to Marinette. Marinette saw the spark of relief that filled those pale blue eyes. She offered up a small smile as the blonde settled into her seat. Chloé sat rather stiffly for a moment, then forced out a breath.

“I'm sorry we left you behind,” she murmured quietly without looking over.

“It's okay, Chlo,” Marinette replied softly so that only the blonde would hear. “You really shouldn't be so mean to people, though... It makes you hard to like.”

Chloé opened her mouth to retort, a flush of color rising to her cheeks as she turned to the dark-haired girl. Her self-righteousness was quelled by the gentle admonishment in her friend's gaze. Blowing out another huff, she turned back to the front, slouching forward to rest her chin in both hands.

Mademoiselle Bustier soon brought the class to order, checking that all her students were back in their seats. “Has anyone seen Ivan?” the professor asked. Marinette turned her head to where Ivan had been sitting earlier, a thrill of alarm rising within her at his absence.

The door smashed open, then, causing several people to cry out. There stood Ivan – no, Stoneheart, just as real and intimidating as he'd been the previous day. Only, it was somebody else's name he was roaring out this time.

“Mylèèène!”

Marinette felt her eyes widen, even as she scrambled back with many of the others. Why was he after her? Wasn't he in love with Mylène?

It turned out that that was precisely why Stoneheart was after the girl. So that they could be together - which might have been romantic were it not so terrifying. Stoneheart snatched up the object of Ivan's affection and grabbed one other person before smashing out through the classroom wall.

The akuma took Chloé.

That loud buzzing sound was filling Marinette's ears again, the sound of panic gripping at her. It had taken Chloé. Yes, the girl was selfish and she could be downright cruel, but Marinette knew she could also put someone else before herself, that she would risk getting in trouble to aid a friend. Chloé Bourgeois was a wretched, self-absorbed brat, but until that very day she had been Marinette's only friend, and a loyal one at that.

“Come on, let's follow them!”

Marinette blinked, turning her head to find Alya motioning to her. “What?! No, that... that's insane!”

“You'll miss Ladybug going into action!” Alya exclaimed. Little did she know the way her words pierced straight to Marinette's heart. Because she was wrong. There was no Ladybug, now. The Ladybug who'd been chosen was ill-suited to the task.

“Why do you trust Ladybug so much?” Marinette demanded, a note of desperation entering her tone. “Maybe she's not cut out to be a superhero!”

“That's where you're wrong,” the other girl asserted. “I know you're scared, but believe me. I saw Ladybug with my own eyes! That girl is a real superhero! You'll see. I'm going to prove it to the world with my blog. Come with me and you'll see, too!”

_A real superhero. Real. A real one..._

“Marinette?”

The model shook her head, even as her stomach started to knot and her heart began fluttering. “I'm staying here,” she said. “You stay, too! It isn't safe.”

“Suit yourself,” Alya replied, darting towards the door.

“Alya, wait!” Marinette shouted, running after her.

This was bad. This was really bad. The akuma was back, which meant it would be able to control all the people who'd been turned. It had taken Chloé, and while Marinette was also worried for Mylène, she feared what it would do the one who'd taunted the boy. Now, Alya was going after it.

By the time Marinette had reached the sidewalk, her new friend was already out of sight. The brunette tripped, though whether this was due to her inherent clumsiness or the anxiety gripping her like a vice, it was hard to tell. Her palms instantly stung, the knees of her jeans tearing from the friction of her fall. As her bag fell from her shoulder, it fell open, several of the contents spilling out.

Including a small hexagon-shaped box.

A new sort of desperation welled within her as she snatched it up, scrambling to her feet and turning quickly in search of somewhere sheltered. Running for the first bit of cover she could find, Marinette ducked out of sight of the street, opening the jewel box and hastily putting on the earrings. In a flash of red light, Tikki reappeared.

“I need Ladybug!” Marinette exclaimed.

“I knew you'd change your mind,” the kwami declared.

“I'm still not convinced I'm right for the job, but my friends are in danger. I have to do something!”

Tikki gave a knowing smile. “You know what to do.”

For a second, Marinette faltered. She did know, but knowing and doing were different things. What if she made another mistake and things got worse again? But what if she did nothing, and somebody got hurt? Marinette's expression steeled in determination, chin lifting and shoulders squaring.

“Tikki, transform me!” she commanded.

0o0

“My Lady, you've turned my world upside-down,” Chat Noir quipped as he dangled from the end of her yo-yo, causing a flush to rise to the girl's face.

“You're a real jokester, aren't you?” Ladybug replied. Her gaze flitted to the Stonehearts merging on their position. “Shall we take the high road?” she suggested, taking to a nearby roof without awaiting a proper response.

“Shouldn't we take care of them?” Chat questioned as they peered down at them.

She shook her head, pigtails swaying. “No,” she declared. “They aren't the ones in control.” Peering down at her yo-yo, where she'd brought up a screen with the feed of the local news station, she then turned towards where the Eiffel Tower could be seen rising over the rooftops. Ladybug raised a hand to point. “He's there.”

“Shall we go join the party?” the boy suggested, causing his partner to wrinkle her nose at him. “Ah, you're right. We probably should have RSVPed. After you, my Lady.”

Ladybug bit back a laugh and vaulted off towards the tower, using her yo-yo more confidently than before. It wasn't that she was any less uncertain or scared than she had been. Perhaps, it was simply that she was more determined now. More than ever, she couldn't fail.

“I demand you give my daughter back!” they could hear the Mayor shouting through a megaphone as they drew closer.

“It would be my pleasure,” Stoneheart roared. Winding back the fist in which it held Chloé, the akuma hurled the girl into the air.

Panic. Horror. And perhaps, most surprising of all to herself, immediate action, for not a second had passed before Ladybug had sprung forward to intercept the girl's unplanned flight, catching her in her arms and carrying her safely to the ground.

Chloé stared at her savior with wide blue eyes. “I didn't swear!” she blurted.

Ladybug frowned at her incredulously. “What?” She put the blonde down, watching as she ran to her father. Her heart rate eased only slightly.

“Prepare the assault!” the police captain commanded, drawing her attention.

“You can't!” Ladybug shouted. “You'll only make things worse!”

“You've already failed,” the man countered, “we don't need a pair of amateurs mucking things up. Let the professionals do their job.”

The girl felt stung, taking a half-step back. She turned as she felt Chat Noir's hand on her shoulder. “He's right,” she told him. “I'm not suited for this. If I'd caught the akuma the last time...”

“Nonsense! You just saved that girl,” Chat Noir reminded her, motioning to where Chloé stood safely at her father's side. “No one is perfect at their job when they start out. They need us, even if they don't know it, yet. If they didn't, neither of us would have been chosen in the first place. We just need to show them.” His tone was passionate and earnest, vibrant green eyes meeting hers with conviction.

“But, what if-” Ladybug began.

He silenced her with but a reassuring squeeze of her shoulder. “We can do this,” he said. “Trust me.”

“I trust you,” she replied softly.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, than that trust was to be tested. For it was then that Stoneheart began to cough and hack until a cloud of akuma emerged from his stony lungs to form a large face which hung in the air and began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Paris, I am Le Papillon,” it declared. “Ladybug and Chat Noir, if you wish everything to return to normal, you will hand over your Miraculous, the ladybug earrings and the black cat ring. Otherwise, the people around you will continue to suffer.”

Chat Noir's hands had balled into fists at the ultimatum, his teeth baring in distaste and tail lashing as though of its own accord. It was not he that responded, however. Once again, Ladybug surprised herself. A lifetime of uncertainty and trying to avoid the ire of others, and here she was, taunting a supervillain of all things. She couldn't have said where it had come from; it had simply risen up from her center with a life of its own.

Ladybug gave several loud, sarcastic claps as she sauntered forward, chin held high and shoulders back. “Nice try, Papillon,” she called back. “But let's not forget where the blame lies, here. It is you who has done this. It is you who is hiding behind an innocent boy, manipulating his hurt and his fear and his uncertainty for your own evil purposes.

“You can throw whatever you want at us, but mark my words, you will not be able to hide forever. Chat Noir and I will find you. And when the time comes, it will be you who surrenders your Miraculous to us!” Ladybug boldly declared. “In the meantime, all of Paris can rest assured that we will be protecting them from likes of you or anyone else who will bring them harm!”

A hand reached for the yo-yo at her hip as the girl charged forward, her heart hammering as a lump tried to settle within her throat, but she swallowed it back, running too quickly for the buzzing in her ears to deafen her. Winding her arm back, Ladybug leaped into the air and flung her weapon forward.

“I'm freeing you of evil!” she cried. Again and again, the yo-yo flew forward, the cloud forming Le Papillon's image faltering as the akuma were captured within it. Paris itself seemed to draw in a breath as the face vanished, leaving the spotted young superhero standing in its place. Reaching down, she opened the compact, releasing a plume of pure white butterflies into the air.

“This is a promise!” Ladybug vowed. “No matter who may try to hurt you, Chat Noir and I will do everything in our power to defend you!”

A cheer rose from the crowd beyond the barricade and from every person watching the broadcast from the safety of their homes, but Ladybug had neither the time nor desire to bask in their awe. Stoneheart and the others transformed by the akuma were climbing the tower, poor Mylène still held in the villain's grasp.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug shouted to her partner. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but a small, confident smile pulled at her lips, nevertheless. “Let's end this!”

Chat Noir grinned, vaulting up to join her. “With pleasure, My Lady,” the cat declared with a bow.

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done: 22 Feb 2018


	6. Thunderclap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our two heroes both discover something to stammer about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wraps up the Origins storyline, and thus the retelling portion of this story. I will be veering away from canon from here on out, so there will be fewer instances retold from canon. Many of them will have still happened, I just won't be covering them in favor of newer plotlines.
> 
> Anyhow, be sure to let me know what you think! Thanks, as always, for the love!

****Chat Noir watched as Ladybug nudged Ivan and Mylène closer together, handing the shorter girl the crumpled page with the handwritten lyrics of Ivan's song. Leaving the two to talk among themselves, she walked over to him with a smile on her face. Hands clasped together, she turned to look back as the other two hugged, letting out a dreamy sigh.

“They're so perfect together!” she declared.

He braced a forearm against her shoulder. “Why, My Lady, I didn't take you for a romantic,” he teased.

“Well, I... that is...” the girl flushed, hands fluttering a bit. “Just look at them!”

“They do look happy,” Chat agreed as he watched his classmates together. Turning back to his partner, he gave her a grin and held out a fist. “ _Bien joue_!”

She pressed her knuckles to his without hesitation this time. “ _Bien joue!_ ” she echoed cheerfully.

Okay. His partner was definitely adorable. The boy found it especially cute how she could go from bold in the heat of the fight to bashful once the danger was past. He wondered which side of her she showed when she was outside of the mask and whether he'd continue to witness these different aspects of her, or if she'd start acting solely like the confident superheroine who'd confronted Hawk Moth in front of the whole of Paris.

He kind of hoped she wouldn't.

A beeping from his ring drew his attention, a quick glance at Ladybug's earring confirming she was down a couple spots, as well. “Looks like our cue,” he said. “You were awesome, today, Buginette. I told you we could do this.”

Every bit of Ladybug's face that wasn't covered by mask turned a bright pink. “A-awesome. I mean, you were. Awesome. As well!” Her hands flew up to cover her face.

“So kind of you to notice,” Chat replied with a chuckle. He stooped into a low bow, giving an exaggerated wave. “Until next time, My Lady.”

“B-bye!” she called after him as he left, grimacing to herself. Taking her yo-yo from her hip, she departed in the opposite direction.

0o0

“He's going to think I'm an idiot,” Marinette lamented quietly to Tikki as she walked towards home. She hadn't quite been able to make it the whole way before her transformation wore off. “Why was I stammering in front of him?”

“I think I've got an idea,” Tikki teased.

“Tikki, I'm serious! It's so embarrassing.”

“So, am I,” remarked the kwami. “There's nothing wrong with having a crush, you know.”

Marinette sputtered. “I-I don't! Not have – don't... I do not have a crush on him,” she managed, cheeks flaming.

Tikki just gave a doubtful sounding hum before ducking down into the girl's purse as she stepped through the gate to the mansion. Despite how quietly she spoke, the kwami was easily able to hear Marinette's happy murmur of, “He called me 'Buginette.'”

The girl was riding an emotional high. Her second venture as a superhero had been a success, thanks in part to her partner's encouragement. Chat Noir was so kind and supportive, even though he seemed to be taking to things so much more easily than she was. And that grin of his...

A sigh was breezing past her lips as she entered her home (if one could call the stuffy dwelling such a thing). It abruptly turned into a startled cough as she was met by not one, but three separate stares. It was the look of severe disappointment she received from her mother that caused a knot of panic to form in her chest.

“I... I can explain!” Marinette blurted.

From the corner of her eye, the girl could she her father shift on his feet, even as Nathalie looked away. For her part, she couldn't have diverted her gaze from her mother's even had she dared. The knot which had sprung from around her heart had risen to become a lump within her throat.

Sabine arched a brow at her. “Well?” she prompted. “I am eagerly awaiting this... explanation of yours.”

“I – that is... I didn't mean...” the girl stammered out.

“You disobeyed me,” her mother intoned. “After I explicitly told you that you were not allowed to attend that school, you went, anyway. Furthermore, you did this after promising that you would not.”

“I'm sorry, Maman,” Marinette whispered, unable to speak any louder beneath the weight of her mother's stare.

“Are you?” queried the woman skeptically.

“I am!” her child insisted. “I know I shouldn't have, but I just...” But what use was it to repeat her longing to attend school? Especially now after she had gotten a taste of the experience and made a new friend. Her mother already knew. The woman just didn't care.

“And yet, here we are,” Sabine sighed. “I had really hoped you'd prove mature enough to overcome the need for teenage rebellion. Honestly, Marinette. It's positively plebeian. I suppose I expected too much of you.”

Marinette could feel tears building behind her eyes. She knew better than to let them fall, though. Crying was another thing her mother found plebeian.

“Your father has argued that regular social interaction with people your age would prove beneficial to you. Personally, I find it far more likely that you'll grow acquainted with more negative influences, such as your little friend Miss Bourgeois,” the woman continued, tone sounding a bit bored. “However, since you have proven that you will do as you like, despite giving your word to the contrary, I suppose I just as well permit it on a trial basis.”

The girl blinked in surprise, eyes widening. Had her mother really just said..?

Her mother's gaze narrowed reprovingly at her. “Nathalie has volunteered to rearrange your schedule,” she bit out, as though she thought it an impertinent thing to do. “You are not allowed to go traipsing off without your bodyguard. He will drop you off and pick you up again each day. You will, of course, continue your other lessons, your music and Chinese, as well as the photo-shoots.”

“Yes! Of course!” Marinette agreed eagerly.

“And you will keep your grades up. I am most serious, Marinette. The moment your academics start to suffer, I am pulling you out of that school and the subject shall never be visited again. Do I make myself clear?” Sabine looked at her sternly.

“Yes, Maman, I promise,” the girl murmured fervently, moving several steps forward. “I will do my best in everything. Better than my best! I'll keep up with everything, I swear.”

“See that you do,” her mother intoned dismissively, turning to head towards her study. “Oh, and Marinette? Take note that Miss Bourgeois is not permitted in this house anymore.”

This gave the girl pause, her expression momentarily stricken. Chloé's visits were already relatively rare. This was partially because Marinette preferred to get away from the mansion. The hotel felt like a haven in comparison to the large lonely house. Her mother had never been very fond of the blonde, but she'd never banned her from visiting before.

“Y-yes, Maman,” Marinette replied. She wasn't sure whether she was heard or not. For a moment, the girl stood there, torn between elation and hurt. Then, a large hand settled upon her shoulder and she gazed up into her father's green eyes.

“Your mother is a stubborn woman,” Tom Dupain said with a bit of humor. “It was no small task to get her to give in.”

“Thank you, Papa,” she said, throwing her arms around the man's waist. He returned the embrace. After a brief moment, the girl pulled away, craning her head back to look at him. “She's not too mad with you, is she?”

Tom gave a hearty chuckle. “Your mother is always angry, especially with me,” he told her, patting her cheek. “You let me worry about whether or not she's unhappy with me. I just want you to be happy. Understood?”

Marinette nodded, offering a small smile. “Yes, Papa.”

“Run along, now. If I'm not mistaken, I do believe one of us has some studying to do.”

The girl made her way for the stairs. She stopped on the bottom step to look at Nathalie. “Thank you,” Marinette said. “And I'm sorry. For how I behaved this morning.”

“Don't think on it,” Nathalie replied, the words dismissing thanks and apology alike.

Continuing up the steps, Marinette made her way down the hall to her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned back against it. Tikki emerged from her purse to float in the air before her.

“I'm allowed to go to school,” she murmured incredulously. The kwami simply smiled. Marinette couldn't help but feel that the entire situation had grown increasingly surreal.

0o0

“What made you think of writing Mylène a song?” Alix was asking, turned in her seat to face Ivan across the aisle.

“It was Marinette's idea,” Ivan answered quietly, blushing faintly under Mylène's fond gaze. “She suggested I write her a note or something.”

“Marinette's?” Kim spoke up incredulously. “The resident fashion model? _Chloé's_ friend?”

The larger boy gave him a frown. “Marinette is nice. She came to make sure I was okay after what Chloé said yesterday,” he said.

“No way,” Adrien muttered from his seat next to Nino. His voice was quiet enough that only his friend could hear him.

“What? You think she can't be decent?” Nino asked in amusement.

“You think she can?” the blond retorted. “Let's not forget who speculated that she'd be just like Chloé first.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong. The other new girl seemed to be getting along with her yesterday.”

“What about what she said? About everyone being stupid?” Adrien persisted.

“It was only part of the conversation, bro. Why are you holding onto this?” Nino asked. “Usually, you're the first person to give someone a chance.”

Adrien made a face, but didn't have time to answer before the subject of their conversation walked into the room. She was with Alya, this time, a small smile on her face as she listened to what the auburn-haired girl was saying. They parted a few steps inside the door, Alya continuing to her seat in the front while Marinette started up the steps beside Nino.

There, she paused, lips pressing into a line and hands tightening around the strap of her school bag. After a moment, she started to take a step back.

“Whoa!” Nino cautioned, a hand shooting out to grab the girl's wrist before she accidentally walked off the step. She started, looking over at him in surprise. Nino let go so quickly, he might have been burned.

Marinette blinked at the boy, then looked down to where her heel was at the very edge of the stair. She gave him a small smile. “Thank you,” she said.

“Yeah... no problem,” Nino replied.

The girl turned, watching her feet to step down off the stair before moving around the front of their desk and up a step. “May I-” she started to address Alya.

“Don't even!” Alya retorted, leaning over to grab her by the arm and drag her into the seat. Marinette let out a surprised sounding squeak. A faint blush had colored her cheeks, but she was smiling, a little more widely this time.

Adrien had followed the entire exchange, curious of Marinette's sudden change of seat. Wasn't she concerned her 'bosom friend' would be upset with her? No sooner had he wondered this, than Chloé and Sabrina entered the room. The blonde took three steps before her gaze focused on Marinette.

“Why are you sitting there?” Chloé demanded, a spark of something in her gaze that only one person in the room really knew how to identify. “We'd agreed you'd be sitting with me. You don't have to sit next to her.”

Alya looked like she wanted to retort, but Marinette held out a hand to her before rising slowly out of her seat. She cast a look over her shoulder, almost uncertainly. All eyes seemed to be on her or Chloé. A quiet sigh slipped past her lips, then she looked back at Chloé, shoulders straightening. When she spoke, her voice was just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Chloé, you were my first friend,” Marinette stated firmly, a warmth to the words. “You will always be my first friend. Nothing will change that. But I need other friends, too. We both do. Besides, it's not fair of me to take Sabrina's seat when I can sit somewhere else. She's your best friend, isn't she?”

If everyone hadn't been paying attention before, they certainly were now. Some even leaned forward in their seats awaiting Chloé's response. She and Marinette simply looked at one another for several seconds, something seeming to be communicated between them in that brief amount of time.

Chloé gave a short nod and her lips curved into a faint smile. “Yes, she is,” she murmured softly, the words clearly delighting the redhead beside her. Then, the blonde tossed her head, lifting her chin a bit arrogantly. She sounded more like herself when she continued. “I suppose it's fine, so long as you don't forget about me.”

Marinette let out a laugh, a hand raising to cover her mouth. As they took their respective seats, the dark-haired girl casually tossed over her shoulder, “As if you'd let me.”

Adrien heard Chloé scoff behind him, but his focus was still on Marinette, even though the model had turned to the girl beside her. He was now more uncertain than ever. The two girls were clearly still friends, and yet...

“Dude,” Nino whispered, jabbing him beneath the shoulder blade.

“What?” Adrien hissed, rotating around to face him.

“You were staring,” his friend pointed out.

The blond made a face. “No, I wasn't,” he denied. Nevertheless, he found it a bit difficult to keep his attention from wandering off to the right.

0o0

“Gah!” Adrien stepped back into the entryway of the school, peering up into the cloudy sky. Of course, it was pouring down rain on a day he forgot to bring an umbrella. The boy sighed, preparing himself for a quick dash home. It wasn't very far, but he would probably still end up soaked. He turned his head as someone came up beside him.

Marinette blinked back at him, then quickly diverted her gaze. Opening her own umbrella, she held it up and stepped out into the rain towards her waiting car. After a couple of steps she turned back around to face him.

“Um...” she said, the words seeming to stick in her throat. She shifted from one foot to the other. “I don't think people are stupid!” she blurted.

Without waiting for a response, she started towards the steps before wheeling around once again. “Look, Chloé is the only person I really know – well, and Alya, now. But I know Chloé can be... awful, sometimes. And she may be my friend, but I'm not... I don't see people the way she does. What you heard me say yesterday, that wasn't about you guys. It wasn't about anyone. I was... I was poking fun at Chloé for thinking like that.”

Adrien stared at her in surprise, noting the way that she couldn't seem to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. It struck him that what he'd said must have really gotten to her. He cast about for something to say, an explanation perhaps, but words escaped him.

“This is all new to me,” Marinette said softly. She had moved a few steps closer, face still turned away from him. “I've always been home-schooled before. I never had a chance to make friends like everyone else. I... The last thing I'd want to do is alienate anyone. I don't like people judging me before they get a chance to know me. I wouldn't do that to somebody else.”

She fell quiet again, the sound of the rain filling the silence. Her gaze was still fixed somewhere near the ground, causing her lashes to droop down over her eyes. A galaxy of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and Adrien found himself wondering absurdly whether they were edited out of her photo-shoot pictures or not. Suddenly, her gaze lifted to his own and Adrien's sight was captive by twin pools of blue.

“Here,” Marinette said, the hand holding the umbrella moving closer to him as a thunderclap rumbled overhead.

It took Adrien a little too long to realize why she had done that. He blamed the thunder for distracting him. “I can't take your umbrella,” the boy protested.

“Sure you can,” the girl said, brows crinkling together. She reached out to take one of his hands and pressed the umbrella into it.

“What if you get wet?” Adrien asked, green eyes wide and incredulous.

 _Music._ The girl was laughing at him. Not one of the short giggles he'd heard her make throughout the day when talking with Alya or even Chloé, but a full-throated laugh that bubbled up within her, causing her eyes to crinkle and dimples to form in her cheeks.

“I'm not going to melt,” Marinette informed him, a smile still on her face. “I'll see you tomorrow.” With a small wave, she turned to go, making her way to the waiting car without stopping this time.

“Yeah!” Adrien called out after her. “Yeah, tomorrow! I'll... I'll be seeing... you. Then.” He waved after the car, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Smooth, Romeo,” Plagg drawled at him, emerging from his shirt pocket.

Adrien felt his cheeks flush. “Oh, hush,” he told the kwami, rubbing at the back of his neck. Plagg snickered at him as the boy hiked his bag higher up his shoulder. He stepped out into the rain, the drops of water drumming against the umbrella over his head.

As he made his way home, Adrien couldn't help but think that Marinette just might be as nice as she was pretty.

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done: 22 Feb 2018


	7. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug blushes and Adrien is declared a sap.

****_Eleven weeks later..._

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug shouted from the opposite side of the street. Both heroes were running parallel to one another at breakneck pace.

“Bring it!” Chat yelled back.

The girl flung out an arm, yo-yo flying from her palm and across the abandoned road. Chat Noir held out his baton to catch the polka-dotted disk.

“Got it!” he called.

“NOW!” his partner shouted as she dodged around a lamp post to secure her end of the string. Chat Noir pivoted sideways and dug his heels into the pavement, yanking back on his baton to pull the line taut. Unable to stop its forward momentum, the akuma – a twelve-foot behemoth with massive limbs and rope-like muscles – tripped over the line and was flung face-first into the road with enough force to buckle the asphalt.

Wasting no time, Ladybug darted forward to snatch up the akumatized object. At least, that had probably been her intent, but as the item happened to be a gym towel wrapped around the massive villain's waist, she settled for tearing it in half, instead.

“Bye, bye, little butterfly!” she called sweetly a moment later, watching the small creature flutter away.

“That was definitely a new time record!” Chat Noir declared excitedly as he joined her. The girl turned to grin up at him.

“We didn't even use our powers,” Ladybug enthused. A groaning from the latest akuma victim drew her attention and Chat had a clear view of her face as her expression morphed from a contented smile to wide-eyed alarm. Every inch of visible skin turned red as she whirled around, hands covering her eyes.

“Ladybug..?” Chat asked, a little concerned.

“H-he's _naked_!” she squeaked.

“He's-” the boy glanced back over his shoulder. “ _Oh_. Um... I got this. You, ah... stay like that.”

“Chat?” Ladybug questioned as he reacquainted the man with his towel.

“Hmm?”

“I didn't use Lucky Charm.”

“... yeah?”

“How are we going to fix everything the akuma broke?” Ladybug questioned.

Chat blinked at her back before looking around. “That's a good question.”

0o0

“Just look at her,” Alya gushed. She did that a lot when it came to Ladybug, actually. Marinette found it a bit embarrassing. Her friend paused the video she was sharing, pointing to the phone screen. “See? Her entire face goes red. Aw, our cute little bug is so shy. Isn't she adorable?”

“Okay, dude, you have got to stop saying that to me,” Nino was saying that same moment to Adrien as the boys made their way up the front steps of the school. “I get it, man. You think Marinette is perfect. She's beautiful, she's nice. Awesome. So, tell _her_.”

“What? I can't just say that to her!” Adrien protested. “I get all tongue-tied when I talk to her. She'll think I'm an idiot.”

“'But she's nice'!” Nino mimicked. “Dude, first of all, you're a sap. Secondly? You're starting to sound a bit like a stalker.”

“She was embarrassed!” Marinette protested back in the classroom, fighting back a return of the blush in question. “The guy they just saved was naked – I'd blush, too!”

“I know. It's adorable when you blush, as well,” Alya replied. “That doesn't change the fact that Paris' number one heroine is bashful.”

The brunette made a face. “Oh, yeah? And how do you come to that conclusion?” she challenged.

“Hours of video as proof for one,” said the blogger. “Just look at the way she interacts with Chat Noir. Either she's got a major crush on him or she's shy. Probably both.”

“I do not sound like a stalker,” Adrien protested. “I'm sure loads of people like Marinette. There's entire billboards with her face on them. All of Paris knows she's pretty. But she's also-”

“' _So nice!'_ ” cut in his friend, echoing the words he'd heard dozens of times before. “'She could be vain and stuck-up, but she isn't. Actually, she's really sort of shy, if you think about it. She acts like she isn't, but that's really just a front she puts on to maintain her image.'” Nino gestured a bit over-dramatically as he spoke, causing Adrien to roll his eyes and sigh.

At Marinette's dubious expression, Alya continued, undeterred. “It's not just her interactions with her partner, though. Like, yeah, she gets a bit bashful when it's just them and the danger's passed, but the way she responds when anyone wants to ask her questions? She practically _hides_ behind Chat Noir. She's nice, of course, well-spoken, but given the chance, she always lets him do the talking. It's obvious she doesn't like the attention being on her. She's probably not used to it,” she theorized.

Well, she wasn't completely wrong. Marinette did hate when attention was focused on her, but it wasn't due to being unaccustomed to it. Just the opposite actually. She received too much attention practically every day of her life. It made her self-conscious. The only difference was that as Ladybug, there were fewer people telling her she wasn't allowed to avoid it.

Meanwhile, the boys had started climbing the stairs to the second floor. “Ha ha, very funny. You're a regular comedian,” Adrien grumbled.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Not trying to be funny, bro,” he declared. “Just trying to make the point that you've told me this stuff so often that _I_ can repeat it, now. You've had crushes before, but this? This is sad, dude. It's almost pathetic.”

Marinette was feeling a bit flustered. “I still don't understand why you're so focused on Ladybug,” she said, trying to redirect the conversation. “She and Chat Noir are a team, aren't they? Shouldn't your blog reflect that?”

Alya looked at her in surprise. “It does. I have entire sections dedicated to Chat Noir. If you're talking about the name, well... nothing else I could come up with would have the same ring as 'the Ladyblog.' Besides, everyone knows I report on the both of them, even if he's not in the name.”

“Then, maybe he should be! I hear the name 'Ladyblog' and all I think of is Ladybug,” Marinette argued. “It just doesn't seem... even, that way.” Her friend's eyes lit in amusement, but before she could make a remark, another voice drew their attention.

“Look, I'm going to tell her, okay?” Adrien was snapping at Nino as they entered the classroom.

“Tell who what?” Alya asked in amusement, resting her chin in one hand as she gazed curiously at them.

For a brief moment, Adrien's eyes widened. “Uh, my mom. That I don't like the new tort she made,” he answered hurriedly. Nino and Alya both eyed him skeptically, while Marinette's brows drew together slightly. “I don't want to hurt her feelings. She takes pastries very seriously.”

“Right,” Alya replied, obviously not believing a word of it.

“Seriously, bro?” Nino muttered to him.

“Hey, Marinette!” Adrien greeted a bit loudly, by way of changing the subject.

“Good morning, Adrien,” Marinette returned with a small smile, “Nino.” Beside her, Alya was looking amused again.

“Hey!” the blond repeated, a hand scratching the back of his head. Nino elbowed him, prompting the boy to give himself a mental shake. His friend rolled his eyes.

“So, what are you girls talking about?” Nino asked.

“Just how _someone_ seems to think the Ladyblog ought to be the _Kitty Blog_ ,” Alya drawled.

“That is not what I said!” Marinette protested.

“Are you a Chat Noir fan, Marinette?” Adrien asked in surprise.

“Well, yes,” the model conceded, cheeks flushing faintly. Her shoulders squared a bit, chin lifting a little defensively. “Chat Noir is very dependable, isn't he? Any time Ladybug needs him, he's there to do his part and support her, whether it's during an attack or dealing with the press. He relates very well to people and he's nice – and funny. He's very witty. He's every bit as – w-why do you have that out? Are you recording?!”

“Nope,” Alya blatantly lied, having been doing just that. She leaned away from the dark-haired girl, holding her phone as far out behind her as possible when Marinette made a grab for it.

“Alya! You know how I feel about pictures!” Marinette exclaimed, a petulant note to her tone.

“It's not a picture!” countered Alya, flinching a bit when her friend's hand inadvertently grazed the ticklish spot on her side during her attempts to seize the phone. “I'm not going to post it anywhere, I swear! I'm just gonna keep it on my phone.”

“And show it to everyone we know! Why were you even recording that? Delete it!”

The boys abandoned the girls to their struggle, sliding into their seats across the aisle. As he pulled out his class supplies, Nino shot a sympathetic glance over at his best friend, doing a double-take at the blond's expression. “Uh, bro? What are you smiling like that?” he hissed. “Your crush totally just went on about another dude right in front of you!”

“I know,” Adrien said. He sounded way too happy about it. He _knew_ he sounded too happy about it, but he couldn't help himself. Not just then, anyhow. Sighing, he propped his chin up on one hand. “Isn't she adorable?”

“Totally besotted,” Nino muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Adrien's heart continued to soar. _She likes me_ , he thought optimistically to himself. _Marinette likes me. She likes me..._

0o0

Chat Noir crouched atop the high wall which surrounded the Dupain-Cheng mansion, where he found himself frozen. He had not thought this through, not even a little bit. Had the place gotten bigger? It felt like it had gotten bigger.

It had been easier for him the last time he was there. Last time, Ladybug had sent him to protect Marinette from Evillustrator, meaning he had a valid reason to even be at the mansion. It had helped that that day, Marinette had been coming out of the large dwelling as he arrived. There was no reason for him to be stopping in, this time. Or rather, there was a reason, but 'I found out as my civilian self that you might like my superhero self and since I have a crush on you I thought I'd say hi' sounded as stalkerish as Nino accused him of being.

Figuring he couldn't very well waltz up to the front door without good reason, he sighed. He rose to his feet and drew out his baton. He'd hoped that being Chat Noir would have made it easier for him to talk to his crush. Apparently, he was to remain uncertain in all matters Marinette regardless of how he was attired. The hero turned to leave, almost tripping directly off the wall in surprise when a voice suddenly called out from behind him.

“Chat Noir?”

His limbs pinwheeled a bit until he regained his balanced, looking back over his shoulder with wide eyes. Marinette was leaning out a side door, her face a mask of concern.

“Is everything all right?” the girl asked, stepping lightly across the grass. She looked around in all directions for anything amiss, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Is there another akuma? Surely Evillustrator hasn't returned?”

“No!” Chat was quick to reassure her, leaping down to stand in front of her. “No – nothing like that.”

“Oh,” Marinette said softly. She tucked her hair back behind one ear and Chat wondered whether the raven strands were as silky as they appeared. Her lips pressed into a line – a habit, he'd noticed, that she had whenever she was considering what she was about to say. “Then... Then, why are you here? Not that I don't want you to be! Just... if there's no akuma, I'm not sure why you would...”

“Oh! Right. Well, I... I wanted to check in and see how you've been doing, Princess,” the boy replied, managing one of his trademark grins with relative ease.

A quiet laugh breezed past her lips, a pretty blush blossoming across her face as she gave a pleased little smile. “You were checking on me?” she echoed. “That's... that's really sweet of you. Thank you. I'm well. Busy, what with school and lessons and modeling, but I'm doing good. And you? Have... H-have you been well?”

“Pawsitively purrfect,” Chat responded.

Marinette gave a snort, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “That was awful. You really are full of puns, aren't you?” Despite her words, her smile was bright.

“I think you meant ' _paw_ ful',” the superhero informed her, “and I'll have you know that I resemble that statement.”

She laughed, one of her loud, truly-happy laughs, complete with dimples and crinkly eyes. So, she actually did think he was funny. Chat felt like he had won a prize.

“Say, Princess,” he began, only for his query to be interrupted.

“Marinette!” a voice called her name, drawing their attention.

“Oh, I have to go,” Marinette said apologetically. “Thank you. For checking on me.”

“Any time.” It was Chat's turn to speak softly. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he watched her move back towards her house.

“Chat Noir!” She whirled around, looking a bit surprised to find he hadn't moved at all. “I'll see you around?”

It was a good thing he was in miraculous form, or his heart may have burst from his chest and soared off into the sky. He hadn't misheard her, right? She really did want to see him again?

“Absolutely!” Chat Noir agreed happily, smiling widely at her.

Marinette ducked her head, the color in her cheeks renewing. Taking a step backwards, she gave a small wave before turning, nearly tripping over the doorstep as she did so. She shot a look back at him and he returned the wave.

“Bye,” he murmured belatedly as the door closed behind her. His mouth fell into a happy grin as he quickly vaulted away. Careful not to be seen, the boy soon arrived back home to his room, releasing his transformation as he flopped down atop his bed.

“I think she really likes me!” he exclaimed.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “You're a superhero, kid,” the kwami pointed out skeptically. Adrien ignored him, rolling onto his side to press his blushing face into his pillow. _She likes me,_ his heart sang, _Mari likes me._

0o0

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild editing done: 23 Feb 18


	8. Doubt Whisperer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people who should take the most pride in you are sometimes the last to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry for the horrendously long delay. Real life is busy and I don’t have a lot of free time for writing. I shall try to keep future waits as short as possible! 
> 
> Mild editing has been done on previous chapters.

“I'm booooreed!” Plagg whined piteously, sprawling dramatically across Adrien's desk. He stretched out a paw to cover part of the sketchpad the boy was drawing in. “You've been scribbling all weekend. You should go out. And get me cheese. I need Camembert.”

Adrien pulled the drawing tablet away from the kwami, giving him a half-amused look. “I haven't been drawing all weekend,” he said. “Besides, why would I go to the trouble of buying you Camembert when you just sneak over to Ladybug's to eat it?” The boy pouted a bit, recalling how Plagg stubbornly refused to even hint at his partner's identity.

“If you'd buy it for me, I wouldn't have to go over there,” Plagg said. “I only go over there because you expect me to eat pastries all the time. Blegh.”

“We have cheese. You're just picky,” Adrien argued. Scooting his chair back, the blond stood, picking up his drawing pad and carrying it with him to the trap door leading out of his room. “Let's see what we have. If there's really nothing you like, I guess I'll go out and buy you something.”

The kwami perked up at this, zipping across the room to float in front of the boy. “Really? Promise? Let's go! Beautiful cheesiness, here we come!”

Adrien chuckled at his antics. “You really are obsessed with cheese,” he said. Plagg just harrumphed at him, settling on the boy's shoulder to ride down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Pausing a moment to frown thoughtfully at the sketch he'd been working on, Adrien laid the tablet down on the counter before turning to browse the refrigerator contents. The drawing was missing _something_ , he just couldn't for the life of him figure out _what_. Maybe taking a break wouldn't be such a bad idea. Then, he could go back to it with fresh eyes.

“Oh? What's this?”

Plagg dove underneath Adrien's over-shirt as the boy straightened abruptly, whirling about in surprise. “Mum!” he exclaimed. What was she doing up here? He knew it was Sunday, so the bakery closed early, but surely it wasn't that late in the day, already? A quick glance at the wall clock confirmed that it was well into the afternoon, so it really was that late.

Aurélie Agreste shot a grin at her son. “Did I surprise you?” she asked. “That's what you get for trying to sneak food.” She turned her gaze back to what had first caught her attention and Adrien felt a thrill of a alarm to realize she was looking at his sketches.

“Ah, those are just.. that is,” he stammered.

“Did you draw these, Adrien? I didn't know you had an interest in fashion. You should show your father,” the woman said, turning through a couple pages.

“No! I mean, yes, I drew them, but I was just bored,” Adrien responded, reaching for the sketchpad even as his mother stepped away with it.

“Show me what?” his father's voice questioned as the man walked in.

“Nothing!” the boy yelped, a flush rising to his face. It was one thing to draw that stuff, but for others to actually see it?

“Gabriel, look at these,” Aurélie said, moving closer to her husband so he could see the drawings. Adrien gave a soft groan as his father took the drawing tablet to study his sketches with a critical eye.

“You drew these, Adrien?” the man questioned without looking up.

“Uh... yes?”

“Reminds you a bit of someone else, doesn't it?” his mother asked with a grin.

“Indeed, it does,” Gabriel agreed thoughtfully. “These are very good, son. You have a good eye, if a bit untrained. Is clothing design just a hobby, or were you wanting to do more with it?” The man glanced up to raise a questioning brow at the boy.

Adrien must have missed something, because now, he was just confused. “I... I don't know?” he replied. “I mean, it's just... something I thought might look cool, I guess.”

Aurélie gave a soft laugh. “You look so confused, Adrien. Your father studied fashion design, you know,” she said.

“He did?” Adrien asked in surprise, turning to look at his father.

“Once upon a time. I found a new aspiration,” his dad replied, sharing a small smile with his wife.

“Honestly, Adrien, you know your father does most of the cake decorating,” his mom teased. “You didn't think that creativity was developed only for baked goods, did you?”

“Not at first,” Gabriel murmured in amusement. He handed the sketchpad back to the boy. “What you've designed so far shows promise, Adrien. If it is something that interests you, you should pursue it. Perhaps in few more years, Madame Cheng will have some competition.”

“Really?” Adrien couldn't help but glow at the praise. “Thanks, dad!”

Aurélie wrapped her arms around the boy from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You're so silly, Adrikins,” she said fondly. “You needn't hide anything from us. We will always support you, no matter what you choose to do.” She ruffled his hair as she pulled away.

“I know, mom. Thank you.” Adrien reached up to try to put his hair back in place. What was it with moms and messing up your hair?

“So, what were you looking for in the refrigerator, anyway?” his mother asked with a knowing smirk. “Were you raiding the cheese, again?”

Adrien felt his face turn red. And now his parents thought he was the one obsessed with cheese. Plagg really needed to broaden his tastes – and quick.

0o0

Marinette hummed quietly as she returned home from her piano lesson. She had finally mastered the song that had been challenging her abilities for the last few weeks. Her piano teacher had praised her for her success, urging her to keep up the good work as she practiced the new pieced he'd assigned.

It had felt nice, being complimented for something she'd done.

“Marinette.” The girl felt her spirits drop as she looked up to find her mother waiting for her on the landing. “My study. Now.”

Closing the door, the teen trailed after the woman, mindful to not trip on the stairs on her way up. That would have only made her mother even more exasperated with her, and she wasn't even sure why she was annoyed in the first place. So much for her pleasant mood.

“Sit,” Sabine commanded curtly.

Marinette promptly obeyed, sitting in the chair in front of her mother's large desk and resisting the urge to hunch in on herself. It wouldn't do to have bad posture, now. That would just be another thing to be criticized. She wondered what she had done, now.

The girl watched as her mother took her own seat, then proceeded to open the folder sitting atop her desk. Picking up the first page, she peered unhappily at it before tossing it towards her child. The next several pages followed and as Marinette leaned closer to look at them, she realized they were the pictures from her last photo-shoot.

“Well?” her mother questioned archly. “What have you to say for yourself?”

Clearly, something was wrong with the pictures, but Marinette was at a loss as to what that might be. The pictures looked perfectly fine to her. She gave a confused frown. “Maman?”

Sabine let out a put-upon sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “The photographer said you were being difficult,” the woman prompted.

“I wasn't!” Marinette protested bewilderedly.

“He said you were distracted, that you kept checking your phone, and that you insisted upon leaving early,” her mother countered.

“The shoot went overtime! I was checking the time. I had my Chinese lesson after – I didn't want to be late!” the girl protested, upset.

“Tone,” Sabine said impassively. “And very well. I suppose I cannot fault you for trying to be responsible. I'll have Nathalie reschedule the shoot for a time when you don't have something afterwards.”

Marinette couldn't help but gape at the woman for a moment. She had just explained what had actually happened, yet it didn't feel like her mother was any less disappointed in her. No matter how hard she tried, it was never good enough.

“You are dismissed, Marinette,” the woman prompted, having already turned her attention to another task. “Oh, and Marinette? No phone, next time.”

“Yes, Maman,” Marinette replied, enough bitterness bleeding into her tone to earn her a sharp glance. She rose quickly and left the office, fleeing to her room as tears stung her eyes.

0o0

“Ah, yes,” Papillon murmured aloud to the vacant chamber. Pure white butterflies fluttered about him as he stalked toward the window opening onto the sky of Paris.

The man shook his head, expressing a false sympathy that remained unwitnessed. “The high expectations of a parent, demanding more than you have to give, setting you up as a constant disappointment,” he practically crooned, “destined to never being good enough.

“Why, such impossible standards would get under anyone's skin, would they not? Eating away at your confidence, filling you with hopeless doubt... and bitter resentment,” the supervillain purred.

“Fly, my vicious akuma,” Papillon commanded, setting the insect loose, “find this degraded youth and darken her heart!”

Ignorant of the coming danger, the girl sobbed, tucked into the most private corner she'd been able to find. Her trembling hands were tangled in the long length of satin she still held, tightly enough for its edges to start leaving red marks on her skin. Why was she never good enough? She tried so hard, so very hard, yet only her mistakes received notice.

It wasn't fair! And just when she had started feeling more confident, too.

She didn't notice the dark insect which fluttered in through a window. Even if her face hadn't been pressed into the back of her knees, it would have escaped her attention due to the tears blurring her vision. In fact, the akuma never received any regard, flying freely across the room to alight upon the length of bamboo pressed loosely to one of her palms.

“ _Doubt Whisperer,”_ a voice spoke inside her mind, _“I am Papillon. I offer you the power to make others suffer as you have done, to let you peer into their mind and make their doubts consume them. For this, I ask but one small price: bring me the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir!”_

The girl raised her head, blue eyes shining vividly from within the malevolent purple outline of a butterfly. “Yes, Papillon!” she agreed, rising to her feet. Within seconds, the akuma consumed her.

0o0

“Oh, dear,” Aurélie sighed as she settled onto the sofa beside her husband. Even Gabriel had lowered his book give the news report on the television his attention. “Not another one.” Adrien paused in going up to his room, frowning at the screen.

“ _... as a new supervillain terrorizes the city,”_ Nadja Chamak was reporting. Footage of the newest akuma victim appeared on the screen.

It was a girl, probably around Adrien's age or a bit older, although her hair was as white as snow. Her skin, where it was visible – and a lot of it seemed to be – was a dull gray, nearly blending into the leotard she wore. Its pattern was a collection of geometric shapes of black and white and gray, forming an optical illusion that was somehow both restive and disorienting. She stood balanced atop a wooden hoop within which several small balls jostled like angry insects. A pair of clubs hovered readily over one of her shoulders and she wielded some sort of wand connected to a long length of writhing black ribbon.

As he watched, the images cut to a reporter near the scene. He stood with a rather distraught looking police officer. _“Sir, what can you tell us about this latest supervillain?”_ he asked.

The officer mournfully shook his head, tears suddenly brimming up in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. _“I don't do enough,”_ the man murmured thickly. _“I do my best, but I – it isn't enough! For every criminal I help put away, another just comes along to fill their place. How can I protect my community this way? How do I look after my family? Why can't I do more?!”_

“ _Um,”_ the street reporter responded uncertainly, hastily turning to the camera, _“back to you, Nadja.”_

Adrien didn't wait to see more, turning instead to bound up the stairs two at time, missing the glances his departure drew from his parents. Climbing up through the trapdoor into his room, he quickly shut it again.

“We've got to get out there,” the teen declared.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Plagg sighed. “And here I thought we'd at least get the weekend off.”

“You don't even do anything most of the time,” Adrien pointed out with a shake of his head.

The kwami gave a huff. “I see no reason why I should work if I don't have to.”

“Time to earn your keep, then,” the boy told him. “Plagg, transform me!” A moment later, Chat Noir exited out through the skylight and vaulted through Paris towards where the akuma had last been shown.

As he drew closer, the superhero's pace slowed, becoming instinctively cautious. It was unnervingly quiet. There was usually a lot more noise and chaos – the akuma had certainly appeared to have weapons at her disposal. So, where were the sounds of car alarms and breaking glass? Where were the shouts of people calling out in fear and alarm?

Chat paused atop a lamppost, listening warily, the hair at the back of his neck on end. There seemed to be nothing, at first, but then he heard something. Dropping down to the sidewalk, he cautiously moved closer. It sounded like... crying?

Seeing no immediate danger as the civilian came into sight, Chat Noir hurried over to them. “Hey,” he said, “are you alright?”

“Of course, I'm not!” the woman burst out, smacking away the hand that reached to comfort her. Her sobbing seemed to get worse. “How can I be? No... No one _actually_ cares about me. People are only nice to me because they know I'm a pushover. I'm just a doormat. With my friends, my family, my kids...”

Only just resisting the urge to pat the woman's shoulder, the teen hero moved further along the street. There were other people around, after all. Unlike the sobbing woman, most seemed to have drawn into themselves, looking small and insecure. One youth was muttering to himself, speaking of how he was going to fail his classes and never get a job and derail his entire life.

“Crap,” Chat Noir said to himself, looking about at all the people practically immobilized by their uncertainties. “What is this akuma doing to these people?”

“I'm showing them what's really in their hearts,” a quiet voice responded.

He whirled around to see the akuma, the hoop she'd been balanced upon rotating forward to deposit her on the street. She held a blackened handle down by her side, the ribbon it was attached to slithering through the air around her like some flying snake. The supervillain canted her head to one side and smiled at him. Chat Noir found himself unable to look away.

“I've showed them the truths they so desperately try to ignore,” she continued lightly, tone disconcertingly earnest, “that no matter how hard they try or what they do, they will never feel good enough. And they're probably right.”

Somehow between the distracting design of her leotard and her soft-spoken words, Chat found himself relaxing without realizing it. It wasn't that he felt any less threatened so much as a sense of inevitability had seemed to creep over him. When she moved abruptly for the first time, flinging an arm out to send balls and clubs hurtling towards him, he was nearly caught off-guard. As it was, he barely lifted his baton in time to ward off the attack.

“Nice try, ponytail,” Chat Noir called, putting distance between himself and the akuma. “What do I call you, anyway?”

“I am Doubt Whisperer,” she stated calmly, stepping towards him. “Now, stop resisting, kitty cat. It's time to see what you're hiding behind those clever quips and that shiny black armor.” Doubt Whisperer whipped the handle of her ribbon around her head, sending its tip and the wooden hoop flying towards him.

Chat Noir batted the hoop away with his baton and narrowly dodged the ribbon. He avoided a second assault by the balls and clubs only by ducking behind a car. There was the car alarm that had been missing earlier.

The boy took to a nearby roof, turning back to see Doubt Whisperer balanced upon her hoop once more, pursuing him with unnerving speed. Heeding the better part of value, Chat Noir continued to flee. This villain had far too many weapons to risk taking her on alone. He would definitely need a hand.

“Where on earth is Ladybug?” he wondered worriedly.

 


End file.
